


sweet like honey

by falsegoodnight



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Bottom Louis, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Minor Angst, Porn With Plot, Sex Tapes, Top Harry, amateur porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27544741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsegoodnight/pseuds/falsegoodnight
Summary: Weeks of flat shopping with their limited budget with Louis as a librarian aid and Harry as a barista and arguments about whether a balcony or extended bathroom suite were more important (Harry wanted to be able to feel the crisp night’s air and watch the sun set and Louis just wanted to take long bubble baths) led to them stumbling across the perfect fit. A small flat only ten minutes from campus with a cramped but lovely balconyandan included bath.It’s affordable too… well, sort of. But they always manage. Louis picks up more shifts as an aid, adapting a habit of bringing his Psych textbooks and homework with him to finish in between duties, and later his script so he can quietly practice lines with little distraction.Harry also increases his number of shifts at the cafe and valiantly endures the nasty customers who for some reason flock to their establishment like moths to a flame.For a while, it’s enough.-Or, Harry and Louis need money and they find an unconventional solution in the form of PornHub. It’s not supposed to be a big deal.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 178
Kudos: 1030
Collections: Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2020





	sweet like honey

**Author's Note:**

> _**Disclaimer:**_ As much as I did research and also tried to stay vague, there is definitely some inaccuracies about PornHub and the time it took for them to start making money! I sped it up for the sake of the story so keep that in mind. Also, this fic isn't meant to portray an accurate representation of sex work (even amateur) in any way, shape, or form, but I hope I was successful in portraying it as respectfully and normally as possible. 
> 
> For some other warnings: there is a few instances of “sir,” in this as well as “slut,” so keep that in mind. The most extreme it gets is some mild spanking and there’s also some iffy kink negotiation in _one_ scene but everything is consensual! Also keep in mind that in the timeline of this fic, Patreon hadn’t had major restrictions on selling pornographic content!! 
> 
> Anyways: hello! This is the first of two fics I've written for this fest!! 
> 
> This one was quite honestly a struggle, but somehow I managed to take it from a pitiful 5k at the beginning of November to a finished product before the deadline, and I can honestly say I'm so happy with how it turned out. I'm also so grateful to have gotten the chance to write this story! Thank you to the mods for running this fest so wonderfully and for being so accommodating and helpful! And to whoever submitted this prompt which I had a lot of fun writing. 
> 
> And, of course, thank you [Sarah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldouthaz/pseuds/soldouthaz) and Chelsea for reading this over for me and encouraging me every step of the way. Thank you Jem for coming up with hunkandhoney - I think it's grown on me. And also to Hayley, Alex, and Emily, as well. You guys all helped with this story so much even in unintentional ways. 
> 
> So without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

-

The very first time Harry peeked into his new Hall of Residence neighbor’s open door two days before classes started in freshman year, it was after hearing an alarming and slightly concerning shriek. He had been unpacking when it cracked through the otherwise silent room and he hadn’t thought twice before investigating.

However, nothing could prepare him for the bewildering sight of a petite, flailing boy cursing loudly as he attempted to balance precariously on a stool to hang a string of fairy lights across the ceiling. 

From first sight, he had been endeared by Louis Tomlinson. 

That endearment didn’t falter as they got to know each other through brief encounters in the hallway or community group activities in the courtyard along with other neighbors. Walt, Chris, Maria, and Savannah were nice but they didn’t hook Harry in quite as easily as Louis did with that first bright smile and raspy, “Hey, you’re tall. Can you hang this up for me?” 

In fact, it only grew as their friendship blossomed. Late night chats in the hallway where they lingered in the space between their doors, talking in hushed whispers about classes and finals and other trivial gossip from their floor. Midnight pool tournaments against Lucas and Carly from five and seven doors down respectively where Louis and Harry made an unstoppable team. Spontaneous study sessions at the nearby coffee shop after lunch where Louis groaned about Bio until Harry relented and helped him study, abandoning his Economics notes until Louis was waxing his praises. 

That time he helped Louis spray-paint his ex’s car in the murky hours of early morning. That time a bit after where they started a spray paint fight and returned to the dorms with color stained skin and wide smiles. 

Their bloom of a relationship developed into an entire garden of flowers by the time summer bled into fall and they arrived as sophomores with a plan to move out and into a flat of their own. 

Weeks of flat shopping with their limited budget with Louis as a librarian aid and Harry as a barista and arguments about whether a balcony or extended bathroom suite were more important (Harry wanted to be able to feel the crisp night’s air and watch the sun set and Louis just wanted to take long bubble baths) led to them stumbling across the perfect fit. A small flat only ten minutes from campus with a cramped but lovely balcony _and_ an included bath. 

It’s affordable too… well, sort of. But they always manage. Louis picks up more shifts as an aid, adapting a habit of bringing his Psych textbooks and homework with him to finish in between duties, and later his script so he can quietly practice lines with little distraction.

Harry also increases his number of shifts at the cafe and valiantly endures the nasty customers who for some reason flock to their establishment like moths to a flame. 

For a while, it’s enough. 

They’re busy, yes, balancing growing loads of homework and studying with their working and social lives. Things are tense between them sometimes, like when Harry gets mad at Louis when their water bills skyrocket. Or when Louis gets mad at Harry for leaving his stuff all over the place. They’ve gone to bed simmering with anger and frustration but by the time morning arrives, all of it fades away. They’re _best friends,_ is the thing, and arguments never last long with them.

So yeah, it always works out. It’s always enough. 

Well, until it isn’t. 

-

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis breathes, sounding shocked. Harry grimaces himself, insides contracting as he rereads the email frantically. 

It doesn’t matter how many times he skims over the brief section of lines. It still says the same thing.

_Rent is to be increased at the start of next month._

It’s followed by an estimate of the updated rents for each size flat. It doesn’t matter that Harry and Louis are living in a smaller space, the new price has Harry cursing loudly. 

“How the fuck are we supposed to afford this?” Harry asks once he calms down. 

Louis looks pale. “We’re so fucked, H.” He looks distressed, blue eyes wide in worry and fingers digging into Harry’s shoulder where he’s sitting at the table with Louis standing behind him and peering over his shoulder at the screen. 

“Hey, hey, no giving up this early,” Harry scolds, hoping his optimism hasn’t strayed too far into delusional territory. 

“We’re going to move back into the dorms,” Louis wails, head flopping onto Harry’s shoulder dramatically. “I’ll lose my baths.”

Harry rolls his eyes, trying to ignore the panic festering in his own mind. “We’ll figure it out, Lou. We just need to make some more money.”

“How? You spontaneously have some more free time in between classes and rugby and working at the coffee shop? Because I definitely don’t have much free time between my classes, play practice, and working in the library,” Louis complains, words slightly muffled against Harry’s shirt. 

Shaking his head, he shrugs Louis’ chin off of his shoulder and ignores his retaliating pinch to his shoulder. He really _doesn’t_ have time. Rugby hasn’t even really started yet but it’s pre-season which means weekly practices and meeting up with the lads at the gym every other day to train. It’s only going to get worse when games start in January. “There’s got to be something we can do,” he insists. 

He stares at the email again, eyes blurring at the ‘£265 pounds per week’, a far cry from the £180 they were paying before. But God, he really loves this flat and living independently with Louis. “I can fit in another shift at the shop,” he says carefully. 

“And I can pick up an extra shift at the library too,” Louis says exasperatedly. “But that’s still not enough.”

Harry grimaces. “We’ll figure it out,” he says firmly, a bit of unease curling in his stomach. “We have to.” 

Louis slumps in the chair next to him, looking distressed. “We’re going to be evicted.”

“No,” Harry says firmly. “Look, this month is still the same so we’ll be fine. And in November… by then we’ll have a solution. I’m manifesting it.”

“Bullshit,” Louis hisses. 

“We’ll cut back on other stuff,” Harry hurries. “You can cut back on the baths!”

Scoffing, Louis kicks his bare feet up to rest on Harry’s thighs and pouts. Harry automatically drops a hand to hold his ankle loosely, ignoring the glare Louis sends him. “Shut up.” 

“I’ll stop my gym subscription,” Harry promises, trying to placate. “We are _not_ moving out, I promise.”

“You wouldn’t last a month without going to the gym,” Louis says flatly. “We need to find another way to make money.” He bites his lip. “I have a bunch of old clothes I can try to sell.”

“Me too,” Harry says and then frowns. “It still won’t be enough though.” He groans, slamming his laptop shut harshly. 

“Don’t do that, bastard!” Louis scolds, eyes wide. “If you break your laptop, that’s another thing to pay for!”

He groans again, because Louis is right. He takes a few deep breaths, willing the tension in his shoulders to seep out as he inhales and exhales slowly. “Okay, how about we brainstorm some ideas to make more money and have a meeting next week,” he suggests. 

“A meeting? This isn’t a company, Styles.”

“Fuck off, Lou. I’m just trying to come up with a plan,” he grunts defensively. “So?”

“Fine,” Louis relents, feet twitching in Harry’s lap. For a few minutes, there’s blissful silence. Then Louis sighs mournfully. “I’m going to miss my baths.”

Harry sighs. “We are _not_ moving out.” 

-

“Niall, how do I make money?” Harry asks. His friend shoots him a strange look, mouth stuffed with fries. They’re at the foodcourt at the mall and Niall went off to get McDonald’s while Harry was enjoying his nice salad. 

He spotted a guy wearing a leather jacket similar to the one he set aside to be donated last night and all of a sudden, his worry came rushing back. 

“Is this about the rent thing?” Niall asks when his mouth is empty again. He takes a few sips from his milkshake and Harry makes a face. “Louis told me about it this morning in Anthropology.” 

Harry groans. “ _Yes,_ we have no idea what to do.”

Niall hums thoughtfully. “Louis told me he’s been looking into tutoring but he’s not sure he’ll have enough time.”

“He already tutors me and that’s practically a full-time job,” Harry jokes, but it falls flat. “I was looking up stuff to make a list but I barely found anything. Why is it so hard to make money?”

“Think that’s the point. What about offering services to the neighorboods around here like Josh did last summer,” Niall suggests.

Harry gives him an unimpressed look. “You think I have time to go around and mow people’s lawns or paint their bathrooms? I barely have time to be sitting here and talking to you.”

“First of all, I’m worth it,” Niall says smugly. “And second, you're right. That is quite a dilemma.”

Groaning again, Harry even goes as far as to bury his face in his hands for dramatic effect. 

Niall snorts. “Calm down, I’m sure you’ll think of something.” He snaps his fingers, eyes widening. “Hey, what about your ex? Olivia?”

Harry grimaces, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his gut when he figures out what Niall means. “What about her?” 

“Wasn’t she living alone in a studio apartment? Didn’t you stay with her over the summer? She’s a waitress but she only had three shifts a week - that’s not enough to pay rent. What’d you guys do?”

He blushes. “Um...”

Niall narrows his eyes at him. “You… you didn’t do anything illegal did you?”

“What? No,” Harry says, offended. He ducks his head, stabbing his fork into a piece of arugula. “We.. um, we filmed homemade porn videos and uploaded them for money.”

When he looks up, Niall is gaping at him. 

“What?” he says. 

“Are you shitting me?” Niall asks, disbelief evident. 

Harry nods, before smirking. “What, do you want a link?”

Niall throws his straw at him, disgusted. “You guys actually made good money?”

He shrugs. “I mean, yeah. Olivia did it during freshman year but stopped when we started dating because she got her waitress job. But then her rent was upped too so she asked me permission to start doing it again back in April and I said it was fine. When I stayed with her, I just joined in because two people fucking are more appealing than one person masturbating. She already had a pretty good following, even after taking a seven month break.” 

Olivia was a year older and they dated for a year, breaking up in July when they realized it just wasn’t working anymore. The sex had been good though and they made a surprising amount of money that summer. 

“Well, I guess that’s out of the question,” Niall says jokingly. “I mean, unless Louis would be okay with that.”

Niall doesn't mean it seriously - it's just a joke. It's just a joke, but Harry finds himself turning the idea over in his head, biting his lip as he does. 

“H? Why’ve you got that look on your face?” Niall asks, eyeing him fearfully. “Harry, you’re not _actually_ thinking about it, are you?”

“It’s a lot simpler than it seems,” he says after a beat, eyes narrowing. “I’ve already got the equipment and I know what to do - what people will _like._ ”

“Um, are you forgetting the part where you’re talking about your _best mate_ ,” Niall says slowly. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Harry frowns, offended. “I wasn’t… I mean, we’re both single,” he defends, shrugging. Louis broke up with Sean in September, just a few days into the semester. They had only dated for over a month which isn’t uncommon with Louis’ track record (“I have high standards,” he always says. “Not my fault no one can live up to them.”) He had come home and did his best to distract Harry while he was trying to write a paper, whining about how Sean was a, “dumb bastard,” before stealing Harry’s crisps and declaring that he’s staying single forever. 

He doesn’t know about forever but he does know Louis hasn’t dated anyone since - hasn’t even brought anyone home in the time they’ve lived together in the flat. 

Niall is staring at him like he’s crazy. 

“I’ll suggest it,” Harry says decidedly, adjusting his snapback and smoothing down his slicked back curls absently. “And if he says no, then I’ll do it myself. It won’t be as much money but maybe it’ll work.” He stabs another piece of lettuce. “Besides, I haven’t been laid since that party we went to during the first week of classes, it’s getting depressing.” 

“Louis is not your ticket to getting laid for the first time in two months,” Niall says, almost hysterically. “You do realize you’re talking about your best friend? You shouldn’t be so casual about fucking, or being fucked -”

“Definitely fucking,” Harry interjects firmly, wrinkling his nose. 

“You shouldn’t be talking so casually about _sleeping_ with your best friend,” Niall hisses, smacking him in the arm and ignoring Harry's yelp. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Harry just blinks at him, brows furrowing in annoyance. “S’just sex,” he says. “We’ve done it before.”

Niall’s eyes twitches, “ _What._ ” 

“Only once,” Harry clarifies, slumping back in his seat. “When Olivia broke up with me, we both got drunk and we slept together. Neither of us really remember but it happened.” 

“You- _what the fuck,_ ” Niall says, rubbing his temples frantically and staring at Harry with wide eyes. 

“Didn’t I tell you this?” Harry says, scratching at his elbow subconsciously. “It wasn’t that weird. We talked about it after and nothing changed. He’s my _best friend.”_

“You definitely did not tell me this,” says Niall flatly. “I think I’d remember slapping you both upside the head and calling you crazy.”

“It was just us mutually helping each other. Not a big deal. This wouldn’t be a big deal either,” Harry says, shrugging. “And I mean, we find each other attractive. It wouldn’t be that weird.”

Niall just stares at him. “You’re crazy.” 

Harry shrugs again. “Maybe so.” He finishes the rest of his salad in a few bites, chugging down a glass of water and standing up. He pats Niall on the shoulder lightly. “I’ve got practice in fifteen, thanks for the help, mate.”

“Crazy,” Niall mutters quietly. Harry chuckles as he walks away. 

-

The week passes quickly in a haze of rugby training at the gym with teammates and mountains of homework and getting into a tickle fight with Louis in which Harry made the mistake of throwing Louis over his shoulder to subdue him only to remember that Louis always plays dirty. It was too late - Harry has a bruised rib from Louis’ Doc Martens and scratch marks from sharp nails on his lower back to prove it. 

Now it’s Sunday and they’re sitting at the kitchen table, laptops out and dressed in their pajamas. Pajamas meaning no shirt and sweats for Harry and blue silk Sanrio pajamas for Louis. He’s also got his glasses on, biting his lip in concentration and scrunching up his nose. 

“Okay, who’s going first?” he asks abruptly, eyes flicking up to meet Harry’s own, lashes fluttering lightly. 

“You go first,” Harry says quickly. “Since I’m the one who planned this meeting.”

Louis huffs, sliding his laptop closer. The white glare casts a dim beam over his focused face, highlighting the pink of his lips where he’s biting them. “I was first thinking that we could limit other expenses such as magazine subscriptions -”

Harry gasps. “You’re going to give up Vogue?”

He gets a withering glance in return. Honestly, no glare can silence and intimidate quite as effectively as Louis’. “ _No._ But I’ll cancel my other ones. You should too - do you really need all those rugby mags?”

“Um, yes,” Harry says, brows furrowing. “We’ll talk about that later. Move on.”

“Also I’ve decided that I’ll stop using public transit to get to the classes I have when your car is free,” Louis says slowly. At Harry’s mouth dropping in shock, he pouts. “Don’t look at me like that!”

“You hate driving,” Harry sputters. 

“I hate the dorms even more,” Louis snarks, crossing his arms. “Besides, I think you’re just worried I’ll fuck up your baby.”

Harry grimaces. “To be fair, Lou, your track record is…”

“Hush,” Louis interrupts, “I’ll be careful.”

“I’m just saying… the goal here is to spend _less_ money but if you crash Fiona -”

“I can’t believe you named your fucking car,” Louis grumbles, shaking his head, “I will _not_ crash her, arsehole. You’ll see.” 

“Moving on,” Harry prompts, running a hand through his hair. 

“My next two ideas were tutoring and editing essays,” Louis says, adjusting his glasses and frowning at his laptop cutely. “I don’t have a lot of time to tutor but I think I can fit in a couple of sessions on Sunday and Wednesday afternoon. And it takes me around an hour to edit a 5k long essay so I could probably do a couple of those per week too. Probably at night.”

Harry frowns, uneasy at Louis’ words. “That sounds like a lot, Lou. Especially if you want to do stuff at night - you need your beauty rest, remember?” His attempted joke garners a scowl. 

“I know it’s a lot but we don’t really have any other choice,” he says, sighing. “I was looking into other jobs that pay more too, but I like my job and I don’t want to stop working there. I think I might ask for a pay raise in exchange for helping sort books more often.”

“I’ll volunteer to do the dishes every day and see if Gina gives me a raise too,” Harry says hopefully. He hesitates, apprehension rising inside him. “So we’re both really desperate, huh?”

Louis shoots him an unimpressed look. “No, we’re just having the time of our lives,” he deadpans, raising an eyebrow. 

Harry shakes his head, the urge to just blurt out his idea growing in his chest. “Never mind. Do you have any other ideas?”

“Only one more,” Louis sighs, “Babysitting. I used to do it all the time in secondary school and I’m sure I could rope you in. We’re both good with kids.”

Sensing there's more to it, Harry raises an eyebrow. “But?”

“ _But,_ we’re both so busy,” Louis finishes, looking frustrated. They both sigh. 

The urge to say something grows almost impossible to resist. Harry clears his throat, stretching his legs out to nudge Louis’ socked foot gently. Louis looks up at him, brows furrowed in confusion. “I have an idea,” Harry says slowly. 

“I was hoping you’d have more than one actually, but I guess we’ll take what we can get,” Louis retorts dryly. He always gets particularly snarky when he’s stressed - it makes Harry want to pull him into his chest and hug him until he stops holding everything inside and tearing himself apart.

He grimaces. “Okay, but before I tell you… promise to keep an open mind and don’t freak out.”

Louis raises an eyebrow, eyes sharp and suspicious behind his glass lenses. “I’m slightly concerned, but okay. As long as it doesn’t involve anything illegal.”

“All of this is perfectly legal,” Harry assures him. 

“Fantastic.” 

“I was thinking we could film homemade porn videos and upload them to PornHub,” Harry says bluntly, lips pursing as Louis’ jaw drops. 

“I’m sorry - could you repeat that?” he says, eyes wide. “Because it sounded like you said -”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Harry interrupts cautiously. “But it’s just sex! And we don’t have to show our faces or names or anything like that! It’s actually more intimate that way. And I have all the equipment and the _experience_ and it’d make us a lot of money really fast - we can even have an Only Fans. The most -”

“Harry,” Louis interrupts, sounding panicked. “What’s wrong with you?”

Harry gestures dramatically. “Open mind, Lou, open mind!”

“My mind is wide open,” Louis protests, looking shaken up. “But you’re _crazy_!”

Why do people keep telling him that? 

“Okay, if you’re really against the idea, we don’t have to do it,” Harry placates hastily, hating whenever Louis gets distressed and he doesn’t know how to stop it. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I’ve done it before with Olivia over the summer but I get it, it’s not for everyone. I just thought it could be nice...” He trails off awkwardly. 

“Nice? How?” Louis presses, pouting. 

Harry purses his lips, shrugging helplessly. “I dunno. We’re both single and lonely - don’t deny it, I know you’re crabbier than usual because you haven’t been laid recently -” Louis scowls at him but doesn’t say anything. “- and it wouldn’t take much time to film a video or even two a week. I could take care of all the filming and editing.”

“Aren’t these usually scripted?” Louis asks, biting his thumb. Harry waits, hope rising in his chest at the curiosity and not _disgust_ in his voice. 

“Yeah, but I think that’s tacky,” Harry says thoughtfully. “It’s much better to go in the moment sometimes. Like, we’d plan out the basics and positions and stuff, but everything else would be natural.”

Louis shakes his head. “And you’re not at all weirded out or worried about the repercussions of us sleeping together? Regularly?” 

“I mean… we’re best friends,” Harry shrugs, tipping his head back over the edge of the wooden chair lazily, “And we’d have boundaries of course. Nothing that would make the other uncomfortable. It can actually be pleasurable for both of us if we do it right. And I don’t think having sex is going to ruin our friendship if we know exactly what we’re getting into and keep it casual - like friends with benefits I guess.”

“Hmm,” Louis says, biting his lip now, “would it really make us enough money?”

“If you do it right, yes,” Harry assures him, “and we’d do it right.” He pauses to waggle his eyebrows obnoxiously, chuckling when Louis scoffs and throws a pencil at him. 

“And… I mean, you’re well-built but...” Louis cuts off and blushes, looking embarrassed. 

Harry narrows his eyes in confusion, “And you’re… what?” He frowns as Louis averts his eyes, looking even more embarrassed. His eyes widen with realization. “ _Louis_ ,” he admonishes. “You can’t seriously think your _body_ will be a problem! It’s literally perfect for this!”

Louis blushes harder. “It is?” he mumbles, looking unsure. Harry’s heart pangs at the sight. Sometimes he feels like Sean had said some hurtful things to Louis about his looks or body - comments that might have gotten through his normally sharp and bold exterior to where he’s most vulnerable. It makes him want to punch something. 

“It _is,_ ” he says firmly. “You’re hot as fuck, Louis. I can’t believe you didn’t know that.” 

The color of red spanning over Louis’ cheeks is deep and distinct. “But -” he protests. 

“No, stop,” Harry says firmly, frowning in displeasure. “You’re literally one of the prettiest people I’ve ever seen, Lou, and that’s the truth.” 

Louis’ mouth drops open a bit. 

“Besides, everyone’s really obsessed with the dynamic of a taller, stronger dude and a pretty, delicate twink like you,” Harry says casually, missing Louis’ squeak as he takes a sip of water. “I think we’d look good together. But no pressure, of course.”

“You…” Louis trails off, shaking his head in frustration. “This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever considered doing.”

“So, you’re considering it?” Harry prompts, excited. He grins. _Take that, Niall._

“Maybe,” Louis admits, frowning. He shakes his head, looking a bit pale and uneasy. “I’ll think about it. Do you have any other ideas?”

Harry’s grin grows, leaning forward in his seat. “Okay, so… bear with me here but I was thinking -”

“I _refuse_ to do life modelling,” Louis interrupts, crossing his arms. “But you and your nudist self can go for it.”

Harry gawks, before pursing his lips in consideration. “I was actually going to say we get into crafting, but I am now _intrigued.”_

“Okay, this meeting is adjourned,” Louis says hastily, standing up and rubbing his temples. He shoots Harry a hopeful look, looking soft and sleep-rumpled, “Film?”

And who is Harry to deny his best friend?

-

Harry didn’t expect Louis to make a big decision quickly- he’s usually the type to mull over both sides of an idea, weighing the pros and cons, and thinking it over critically. 

That process normally takes a couple of days, which is why when Harry receives a text straight out of rugby training with three simple words, he has to stare at it for a few moments to remember what it is exactly Louis is talking about. 

**_I’ll do it._ **

It takes a second for him to process, blinking at the screen incredulously. The words blur as he reads them over and over, shaking his head in disbelief. He’ll do it. Louis will do it. 

Texting back with clumsy fingers, he sends Louis a row of confetti emojis and after quick consideration, an eggplant and peach emoji followed by a winky face. 

He never said he’s mature. 

When Louis returns from his shift at the library, all tired and droopy until Harry herds him to the couch and turns on One Tree Hill, he brings it up again just to confirm it. 

“So, that text you sent me a couple of hours ago,” he starts, voice trailing off. He arches a brow, ignoring Louis’ unimpressed look. “You’re saying yes?”

Louis rolls his eyes, scooting down and laying back so his head is in Harry’s lap. Harry immediately tangles a hand in his soft hair, scratching lightly at his scalp the way he knows Louis likes most. “Yes, Harry, I’ll film porn with you to make money,” he says bluntly, “or do you need me to grab the camera now so I can prove it?”

Harry’s lips twitch. “We should have a run-through soon so we can figure out the technical bits and get comfortable with each other.”

“This is so fucking weird,” Louis breathes, but he nods nonetheless. “Saturday?” he suggests. 

“S’a date,” Harry answers, pleased. He tugs a strand of Louis’ hair and takes note of the way Louis stills automatically. He’s noticed quite a bit of things about his best friend over the past few years and particularly what he _enjoys,_ so the interest in the prospect of getting to test his intuition and confirm his knowledge is growing steadily within him. 

After all, he knows Louis from head to toe - knows his voice, his eyes, his laugh, his smile, his bad days from his good days, his favorite color to his favorite setting on the ceiling fan, knows when to take care of him or give him space, knows him better than anyone else, probably better than Louis’ mum at this point. 

However, though Harry knows Louis better than he knows himself, now he’ll get to know his _body._ It suddenly seems a lot more daunting than he expected. 

-

“So, how are we going to do this?” Louis blurts. 

They’re eating takeout, pizza from a place down the street. Their crust is too dry and the cheese tastes rubbery but it’s cheap so they tend to order out from them a lot. 

He blinks, chewing on another bite of pizza and trying to ignore the texture as he swallows. “You mean how are we going to fuck tomorrow?”

Louis flushes and it’s honestly kind of fascinating, tracking the way light pink blooms across his cheeks so quickly. “Yeah,” he mumbles, scratching his arm. “But also, like, the actual making homemade porn part.”

Harry shrugs. “Well, I guess we plan out a scene. We could just go for it, I guess, but sometimes it’s good to have an actual set up. It doesn't have to be super developed or anything - just something dirty to catch someone’s eye, like _‘Rugby Captain fucks nerdy twink in the shower,’_ or something.” He misses the way Louis turns even redder at that, taking another bite of his slice. “We’ll set up the camera on my tripod or on a shelf or something and then we’ll fuck. And one of us can edit it and then we upload and hope for the best.”

“Right,” Louis says faintly. “And tomorrow we’re going to…”

“Do a test run,” Harry supplies. “Maybe film a short clip just to see how it’s gonna look and what we need to focus on. Just, uhm, getting used to each other.”

He doesn’t get a response at first, Louis’ head ducked and gaze fully focused on the table in front of him. Then, “Harry… do you think this will -” He breaks off, pursing his lips.

It’s not that hard to figure out what he meant though and Harry’s having none of it. “It won’t change anything,” he says firmly. He reaches out and grabs Louis’ hand, squeezing gently. “You’re my best friend,” he says softly. 

“And you’re my best friend,” Louis whispers back, giving him a small smile. 

“That will never change,” Harry swears, eyes wide. He hesitates, clearing his throat. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Lou. The last thing I’d want to do is make you -“

“No,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “No, I want to - I want to try.” 

“Okay,” Harry breathes. 

“Okay,” Louis echoes, and they stare at each other for a moment before both smiling. 

Later on, after Louis had somehow managed to convince Harry to show him the first episode of _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ and they settle on the couch to watch it, Harry finds himself thinking back to that conversation. He had meant it when he said nothing could change or break their friendship - Louis is truly his other half in every way that counts. As Niall says jokingly, they’re soulmates. Platonic soulmates. 

Still, he’s not stupid. He knows doing something like this - _blurring the lines_ between them in such a drastic and deliberate way - is risky. But… if this works, they won’t have to worry about extra shifts or upped rent. 

And if that’s the case, then Harry will deal with the other stuff. He’ll make sure this doesn’t push them apart and that their friendship will stay intact. He’s not too worried anyway. Louis… well, he’s _Louis._ He’s kind and beautiful and smart and funny - the best friend a guy could ask for. But that’s it. 

They’re just friends and Harry is grateful to know that this is how it will always be. 

“Pay attention,” Louis murmurs, right on key, shooting him an exasperated look. 

“I am,” Harry insists, though he really hadn’t been. “Katara is bickering with Aang.”

Louis swats him on the arm, looking affronted. “That’s _Sokka,_ idiot. Aang hasn’t been introduced yet. If you’re not paying attention, we’ll restart this episode over and over until you do. You _have_ to watch this show - that’s the rule.”

Harry huffs. “The rule for what?”

“Living here,” Louis says, narrowing his eyes. 

“My name is on the lease right next to yours,” Harry counters. But he turns to face the screen again, resigning himself to focusing better this time. Louis is so demanding, yet he always goes along with it. 

“There’ll be a ten question quiz after this,” Louis threatens a few minutes later, eyes glued to the screen as the ice begins to crack and Katara and _Sokka_ panic. 

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” Harry murmurs back, but he’s smiling. 

Yeah, him and Louis are the best of friends. Nothing can ever change that. 

-

After some consideration, they ultimately decide to film in Harry’s room. 

It’s for a number of reasons, really. He has less stuff so it’s more convenient in terms of setting up equipment and moving around. His room also gets the best natural light in the evening which is presumably when they’ll be filming most of the time. And also, Louis insists. 

“I don’t want my room to be tainted by our sins,” he says dramatically. It’s such a Louis thing to say, but Louis actually isn’t acting like himself today. 

Harry noticed it at breakfast - how quiet Louis was when Harry woke him up instead of his usual routine of complaining and scowling. He actually asks Harry to wake him up at 8 on the weekends, an effort not to sleep the whole day away when he has stuff to do, but he still never fails to be difficult about it. Except, well, today. 

He’s acting a bit weird now too, pajama-clad limbs stiff and rigid as Harry gets out the necessary equipment and begins to get everything together. He sets up his camera on a tripod on his recently cleared desk, aiming it so they can get a wide shot of his bed which has been stripped of its duvet and tidied. Lube and condoms have been set on the nightstand (the latter because Harry hasn’t gotten his test results back yet - they mutually decided that since barebacking has better money potential, they’d both get tested). He opens the blinds and pushes the curtains to the sides, trying to let in as much light as possible. While the video can be edited later on, it’ll all be a waste if they can’t get a clear and visible shot of their bodies and the big orgasm at the end. 

While he’s doing all of this, Louis is standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, a grimace curling around his lips. His eyes follow Harry as he moves around the room, uncertainty in his eyes. Harry knows he’s doubting this again, but he never voices his second thoughts which means he still wants to go through this one - at least, to just try. 

“Okay, ready?” Harry asks after checking the camera settings one more time.

Louis startles, eyes flickering from him to the bed nervously. He nods slowly, clearing his throat. “Um, so should we get undressed?”

Harry answers by shrugging off his shirt and flinging it onto the floor unceremoniously. He waggles his eyebrows in an effort to get Louis to relax. “Get naked!”

He himself wastes no time in yanking his sweatpants down, leaving him in boxer-briefs. They’re tighter so he has to tug them down, letting his softened cock out of its confines. When he glances back at Louis, he’s still standing frozen in place, eyes wide as they stare blankly at the wall across from him. “Lou?” 

The boy jumps, looking pale. “Shit, okay, just give me a second,” he mumbles, before crouching down to take off his Sanrio socks. He’s moving exceptionally slow and Harry _knows_ that he’s stalling but he doesn’t interrupt, waiting silently. 

Louis pulls off his sweater next, letting it drop softly to the floor as he stands there in his pajama pants and a thin shirt. He doesn’t look at Harry at all, lips rolling together. He moves abruptly, walking over to the bed and sitting down. “I just - give me a second,” he repeats, sounding tense. 

“Sure,” Harry agrees, a bit confused. He goes back over to the camera to check that the shot hasn’t been altered. He watches through the lens as Louis carefully takes off his shirt, laying back on the bed and pulling a sheet over his torso. 

Harry frowns, raising his head. “Uh, Louis?” 

No response is garnered as Louis pulls the sheet over himself and presumably continues to take his pants off, pulling them and his underwear out from under the white covers and throwing them off the side of the bed. He glances at Harry with pink cheeks. “Ready.” 

“Uh, are you going to move the sheets?” Harry asks slowly. 

“Yeah, just - um, not yet,” Louis says. He sounds so nervous and it tugs at something raw in Harry’s heart. 

Nodding carefully, Harry checks the camera settings one more time before hitting the start button. “I’ll start recording when we’re ready,” he says to Louis. Then he approaches the bed, the weight of what they’re about to do finally settling. “You good?” 

Louis isn’t looking at him, eyes fixed on the ceiling. But he nods jerkily. 

Harry huffs. “Lou, you’re going to have to look eventually. I don’t mind,” he says, getting a knee on the bed. He’s never been too self-conscious of exposing his body (one of the lucky ones, he supposes). If anything, he’d gladly walk around naked all the time, but he knows that it’s definitely not the same for most people. “Lou, it’s okay,” he says softly. 

“I’m - this is just weird for me,” Louis says. “Not just seeing you naked. But you seeing _me_ naked. Us being naked together. Us… having sex. It’s weird.” 

He softens immediately, getting another knee on the bed but staying a respectful space away until Louis is comfortable. “Look, Lou, this is going to be awkward. There’s no getting around it. But it’s me and you, yeah? Nothing bad’s going to happen.”

Louis bites his lip, nodding slowly. His shoulders slump and he carefully brings the sheets down, cheeks burning. 

Harry’s eyes automatically trail over soft, tan skin as Louis uncovers himself. His breath catches in his throat as he takes in small pink nipples, the taper of his waist, and the small curve of his stomach. 

Unlike him, Louis rarely lounges around with too much skin exposed - he’s worn sleep shorts and cropped tops before so Harry has seen flashes of smooth golden skin, but this - this is a lot more. This is completely new. His eyes wander lower, studying the flush of his cock. He’s still soft, length small and pretty against his tummy. 

Tracking the way Louis squirms under the appraisal, he fumbles for words, trying to remember the next step. “Um, do you want to like… make out?” 

He cringes at the abruptness. Louis giggles though, slapping a hand over his mouth in surprise, so he counts it as a win. “I meant because neither of us are hard,” Harry corrects himself, biting back his own smile. “And kissing makes it look more realistic - we don’t have to, of course, but if you’re okay with it -”

“Yeah, alright,” Louis nods, lips curling. “Might as well since you’ve seen my cock.” 

Harry exhales slowly. “Okay, so I’m going to kiss you now,” he says slowly, giving Louis time to back away or protest as he moves closer, ducking down until all he can see is wide blue eyes and soft, pink lips. He blinks slowly. “Right now,” he murmurs. 

Louis doesn’t respond, just stares up at him expectantly. 

He leans down and presses their lips together. 

_Honey,_ he thinks dazedly. Louis’ lips taste like honey, sweet and thick. He’s known Louis uses it on his lips to exfoliate but he didn’t expect the taste to be so distinct. He lowers himself to a plank over Louis’ body, sliding a hand up to cradle the side of Louis’ face and tilt his head for better access. 

Letting out a soft noise, Louis goes easily. His lips part and Harry licks in on instinct, chasing that intoxicating nectar to the back of his mouth with his tongue. And _fuck,_ it’s so good. His blood feels hot, heart thundering in his ears as he sucks Louis’ bottom lip into his mouth and swallows his whimper. 

He’s so _pliant,_ is the thing, letting Harry take control like he prefers. He didn’t expect it - didn’t expect how easily Louis just _opens up_ for him to take, even with any past suspicions he may have had. He guesses he never really thought about it much in the first place - he has no recollection of what he was like when they slept together the first time, no idea if he was just as entranced by the taste of honey and the flush across his cheeks. 

Pulling back to breathe, Harry exhales. Louis looks dazed, eyes blinking sluggishly and lips bitten red. 

“You good?” Harry checks, voice hoarse. 

“Yeah,” Louis breathes. 

“Okay, just gonna…” Harry breaks off, leaning down to seal their mouths together again. He’s not hard yet, but he can feel the familiar coiling in his stomach as heat spreads across his body. It gets worse when Louis tentatively brings his hands up and tangles his slim fingers into his hair, effectively tugging him closer. 

Harry grips his bare hips, feeling smooth skin against his palms. 

They should’ve tried this before they took their clothes off because it’s taking all of Harry’s willpower not to slide his hands from Louis’ hips down to the swell of his arse, to squeeze and knead at the flesh and maybe sneak a finger between his cheeks. 

He can’t yet though - they haven’t even started recording. It feels wrong when he pulls back again, trying to gather his thoughts. “Do you want me to prep you or do you want to do it?” 

“Uh, I can do it,” Louis says carefully, eyeing him with uncertainty. 

Harry nods, lips pursing. They probably won’t have to film the fingering part unless the video is centered around it, so there’s no need for him to do it, but for some reason the thought is disappointing. 

The snick of the lube cap opening is loud in the sudden silence, and Harry feels a frisson of heat form at the base of his stomach when Louis scoots back against the headboard and spreads his legs. It’s entirely automatic the way his gaze drops between parting thighs, sucking in a breath when the pink of his hole is revealed. 

Louis shuts his eyes once he slicks up his fingers, reaching down between his legs. Harry looks away suddenly, feeling his own fingers twitch with barely concealed urge. Louis was right - this is weird. Very weird. 

Even though he’s looking away and can’t see, he can still _hear_ loud and clear as Louis opens himself up, breaths strained. He lets out a soft _“Oh,”_ in the next second that goes straight to his cock. Time passes by excruciatingly slow and his patience (read: self-control) dwindles. He clears his throat. “Almost done?” he asks, voice gruffer than he intends. 

It’s a mistake, he realizes. It’s a mistake to ask Louis a question and have him respond because his voice is breathy and soft, seeping into his skin and sticking there inescapably. “Almost, just - _fuck,_ give me a second.” 

He waits a bit longer, feeling his cock fatten up with every small whimper or shift of the mattress between them. He wants to _look,_ but he doesn’t. Shouldn’t. That would definitely be weird. 

“I don’t,” Louis rasps a second later, sounding frustrated. “I don’t know if it’s enough.” 

Harry swallows, wetting his lips with his tongue. “How many did you do?” 

“Th - three right now,” Louis answers, hissing as if he found his spot. Harry’s cock twitches. Why does Louis have to be so goddamn loud? 

“Uh, I think that’s good,” Harry says slowly. He doesn’t actually know because he can’t feel for himself. He reaches down to his own aching cock and grips it, squeezing a bit to relieve some of the tension. He spreads some of the precum pearling at the top to smoothen the glide and then starts stroking slowly, feeling awkward but still aroused. 

Louis’ voice startles him. “Okay, uh -” He trails off. 

Harry glances to see Louis staring down, following the rough slide of his hand down his length as he jerks himself off. “Ready?” he asks. 

“H, um,” Louis says, before averting his gaze and flushing. His next words come out mumbled and Harry misses it. 

“What was that?” he asks. 

“Is that going to fit in me?” Louis blurts, tips of his ears going red. 

Harry stills at that, taken aback. “Um, yes,” he stutters. “It will.” 

“Are you sure?” Louis says. 

“Yeah - yes,” Harry says, feeling flustered. He shouldn’t be, really. If anything, it’s a boost to the ego, but… there’s something about the way Louis says it - like he’s intimidated by his size but also a bit in awe, makes him feel dizzyingly desperate. Especially when you take into consideration how _small_ Louis is compared to him, all around. He clears his throat again, trying to clear his thoughts from continuing in that direction. “I’ll go slowly,” he assures. 

Louis nods, still looking unconvinced. 

Harry gets up to start recording, feeling a peculiar level of urgency as he rushes back to the bed right after, grabbing the lube and a condom. Louis is back to the unusual silence, waiting against the headboard with his thighs still parted as Harry slicks up. 

There’s a tension radiating between them that’s foreign and Harry finds himself hurrying to outrun it, murmuring a soft, “Lay back,” to Louis who complies instantly. 

He scoots back down so his head is resting on the pillow, blinking up at Harry with wide blue eyes. There’s still some nervousness layered in there, but less so. 

Ducking down to brush his lips against the shell of Louis’ ear, he whispers, “It’s going to be fine.” 

Louis nods, hesitating before lifting his arms to wrap around Harry’s neck. “We have to kiss,” he whispers. 

Throat dry, Harry nods. Their lips meet achingly gentle and Harry’s hands skate down the warm skin of Louis’ sides before settling on his hips. He positions himself, the head of his cock bumping against Louis’ rim and making them both freeze. 

“Go ahead,” Louis mumbles into his mouth, mewling when Harry bites down on his bottom lip in response. God, why does he have to sound like that? 

Harry eases in slow, biting back a surprised groan at the sudden intense pressure around the head of his cock. Louis is excruciatingly tight around him - so much that he has to slow down even more, hips pushing further in painfully small increments. 

Louis’ fingers are curled into his shoulders tightly, sharp nails cutting crescent shapes in his skin from how hard he’s clutching. “Fuck,” he breathes, sounding overwhelmed. 

“Sorry,” Harry grunts quietly, adjusting his hold on Louis’ hips in an effort to diminish the pain as much as possible. He’s still pushing in bit by bit, muscles in his stomach contracting as he fights against the urge to just ram straight in. 

_Slower,_ he tells himself, pausing for a second to let Louis breathe before continuing his ministrations. 

Despite his best intentions, he shifts unconsciously when Louis shudders, accidentally shoving in a bit faster. 

Louis jolts, letting out a pained whimper that has Harry freezing in place, concern rising.

“Are you okay?” he asks worriedly, glancing down between them where his cock is only halfway through Louis’ entrance.

Teeth grit, Louis nods jerkily. “Just - keep going,” he says tensely.

Harry frowns. “You’re hurting,” he says pointedly.

“I’m fine,” Louis denies, squeezing his eyes shut. “Keep going. It’s just - been a while.”

Frown growing, Harry reluctantly obliges. When he finally bottoms out, he’s pretty sure Louis’ nails have broken through his skin, not that he’s paying much attention when Louis’ face is scrunched up in discomfort, body rigid beneath him. 

“Do you want me to pull out?” Harry asks worriedly. 

“No,” Louis says, shaking his head. “Give me a second.” 

He nods, watching carefully as Louis inhales and exhales deeply, body slowly untensing. It takes him a second to realize he’s automatically started rubbing circles into the bones of his delicate hips, trying to soothe him unconsciously. 

A few minutes later, Louis goes slack, eyes flickering open to half-lids. “Okay, continue,” he croaks. “But _slow.”_

“Of course,” Harry murmurs. He’s careful as he eases out, teeth grit in an effort to resist the want coursing through his veins and begging his hips to snap forward quickly. 

Louis tenses up again, wincing in pain, and Harry falters. 

“No, don’t stop,” he says, clenching down and making Harry groan at the feeling, hips stuttering. “Just need to get used to it.” 

Harry hesitates for a second before curling his arms around Louis’ waist and leaning down to mouth at his nipple, trying to distract him. 

It works. Louis gasps out, torso arching up in surprise and body slackening enough for Harry to move again. _Sensitive,_ he notes absently, filing it with ‘pliant’ and ‘loud’ in his list of things he’s learned about Louis during sex. He continues with his unhurried rhythm, switching between each nipple and sucking at the tender buds until Louis is squirming beneath him. 

Each drag of his hips is almost painful, the desire to screw any efforts to take it slow growing stronger with every thrust, edged on by the borderline obscene sounds falling from Louis’ lips as his teeth graze over his collarbone. 

It feels like pure relief when Louis rasps out a quiet, “Faster.” He almost misses it, caught up in the haze of pleasure spreading through his body. But when the permission registers, he snaps. 

His hands come down to Louis’ thighs, holding them up and apart as he speeds up. Louis’ head lolls back onto the pillow, mouth parting on a gasp as the sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, hips drawing forward automatically as his head drops to Louis’ neck. 

He mouths at the hollow of his throat, dimly realizing that they never discussed marks. He keeps it safe anyway, reluctantly dragging his teeth lower so that Louis won’t have to cover anything up tomorrow. 

Another thing they didn’t discuss pops into his head: dirty talk. The thing about porn is that trying to be sexy and seductive is always fifty-fifty. A lot of people overdo the talking, lathering their voices with a fake drawl and overusing cliched phrases and pet names. However, in Harry’s opinion, having no talking whatsoever is unappealing. 

So the best bet is always to keep it simple. He presses his mouth to Louis’ ear. “Gonna practice the talking bit, alright?” 

Unable to respond verbally, Louis settles for dipping his chin to his chest, fringe flattened to his forehead with sweat. 

“You feel so good, baby,” he grunts, pet name slipping out with little hesitation. “Taking me so well.” 

Louis shudders, fingers pressing harder into his shoulders as if he’s affected by the words. As if he thrives off the praise. 

The next time Harry pushes in, Louis physically jolts, a strangled noise tearing through his throat.

“Right there?” Harry asks, rubbing a hand over Louis’ thigh soothingly. He maintains the angle and slows to a grind, pressing right into that bundle of nerves and making Louis go lax beneath him. 

_“Harry,”_ he breathes, sounding completely and utterly _wrecked._

“Can’t say my name in the actual video,” he reminds Louis, when he’s really thinking _say it again._

“Please,” is all Louis says in reply, hips pushing forward to meet his thrusts. His eyes are wide and glazed, brimming with unshed tears. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, the sight going straight to Harry’s dick and making him ram in that much harder. 

He doesn’t know if Louis is playing up the desperation for the camera or if he’s actually worked up and pleading. Either way, it adds to the burn spreading across his body as his orgasm builds and his hips stutter.

But first, Louis.

Acting on pure gut feeling, he grips Louis’ wrists and pulls his arms away from Harry’s neck, immediately pinning them above his head and watching the blue in those eyes go hazier. 

Another note to the file. 

“C’mon, baby,” Harry urges, still angling for his prostate as he presses in again and again. He switches to holding Louis’ arms down with one hand, marveling at how his fingers can envelope both wrists in their circumference with ease. Louis shudders at the feeling, head lolling back. “You like that?”

“M’close,” Louis murmurs dazedly, eyes rolling back in his head when Harry starts nipping at his skin again. A tremor wracks through his body and he arches into it. “Gonna -“

“That’s it,” Harry breathes, rubbing Louis' hip bone tenderly with his free hand before gripping his thigh and pushing it up higher until he's laid out completely. “Come for me, baby. Be a good boy and come for me.” The ‘good boy’ just slipped out, something he’s seen countless times in various genres of porn yet never imagined saying himself. It just feels _right._ He doesn't expect to see the way Louis’ eyes flicker open and his mouth opens in a soft exhale, though, his body freezing as he spills between them. 

Harry files yet another note into his list, dazed. He realizes belatedly that he had frozen in surprise and Louis is now staring up with a nervous expression on his face. He definitely can’t have that. “Good boy,” he blurts, leaning down to connect their lips as his hips snap forward again. “So good,” he grunts, feeling his own release build up. 

He bites down on his bottom lip as he pushes in a final time, tipping over the edge and emptying inside the condom. It crashes over him in waves and he shudders through it, overwhelmed. 

For a few minutes, Harry just breathes. Their lips are still pressed together sloppily, but neither of them are putting any pressure into the kiss. Louis is so still, Harry would almost think he’s fallen asleep if it weren’t for the slight scrunch of his nose when he finally pulls out. 

The condom gets tied off and thrown into the bin and then Harry rolls over onto the mattress beside Louis, exhaling. 

“You gonna stop the recording?” Louis slurs, voice cracked and tired.

“One second,” Harry says, swallowing. The knowledge settles in slowly. 

He just slept with Louis. He just slept with Louis and it was the best sex he’s had in months. He slept with Louis and this time, he _knows_ he won’t forget it. 

A hand curls around his bicep, squeezing lightly. He turns automatically. “You were right. This isn’t so bad,” Louis says, eyes half-lidded but bright. 

“Yeah,” Harry breathes, throat swelling with uncertainty. “Not so bad.” 

-

As much as he expected things to be weird, Harry’s initial assumption that they’d be just fine proves to be true. He woke up on Sunday and made breakfast for both of them, just like always. Then he went to Louis’ room to coax him awake, just like always. 

They ate together and bickered and then Louis told him he’d be going over to Perrie and Leigh-Anne’s to hang out, pretty much just a regular Sunday routine. It was all easy and friendly. 

Just like always. 

The relief he felt is unsurmountable. Not just for himself but for Louis. For both of them. 

After Harry finished some assignments, he gathered the courage to look over the footage from yesterday, and maybe practice how he’s going to be editing the videos since he volunteered to take care of that part. He spent quite a bit of that afternoon watching the material, making notes on things they can improve in terms of angles and lighting but also paying attention to how it looks between them. 

He expected it to look awkward and disjointed - for it to be obvious that they’re two people who’ve never had - _sober_ \- sex together before and who didn’t necessarily _want_ to have sex together. But… it didn’t look like that at all. 

Even with all the pauses and getting settled, it still somehow looked completely natural between them. And when video-Harry starts fucking video-Louis earnestly, it suddenly feels really dirty and intimate.

The audio came out great, on one hand, but that also means that Harry is listening to the same sounds and pants in his ears that drove him so crazy the day before… while he sits in the exact same bed. 

It wasn’t too much of a surprise when he realized his cock was straining up against the fabric of his shorts, spurred on by the look of pure bliss that washes over video-Louis’ face when he comes. 

Harry stopped watching abruptly, setting his laptop to the side and catching his breath. 

So, in other words, they don’t have to worry about chemistry. 

And now today is Saturday, a week since their “practice” session. Harry received his test results in the mail the day before so they have an all-clear to begin filming.

While fucking bare. 

He doesn’t know why it took so long for that to process - that he’d be sticking his dick into his best friend with no condom. He’s only ever fucked one other person bare and it was Olivia - for the porn, mainly, but they were also in love at some point. It had felt fitting in the moment. 

But this isn’t like that at all. 

And he’s still not quite sure if that’s a comfort or a concern. 

Still, there’s no time to waste. They’ve got the rent for this month but November is a different story. They have to start as soon as possible if they’re going to have a chance of making that deadline.

But first they have to figure out the plan for the video. 

They’re sitting in Harry’s room - Harry on his desk chair and Louis sprawled out on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Do you have any particular ideas for the first one?” Harry asks, fingers tapping on the keyboard as he pulls up the account he had made and gotten verified last week. They never decided on a username so Harry just picked _hunkandhoney_ when prompted. It felt right, he supposes. They’re going to start small: just free-to-view videos and eventually custom clips. He hopes they’ll start getting some tips after a while too but they have to provide the content first. “We should probably keep it simple but we also want to catch people’s attention.” 

“So, like, not a scene?” Louis asks. 

“Or a self-explanatory one, yeah,” Harry nods. “Do you have any thoughts?” 

“Well… it’s not really about ideas but I was thinking we should start the video after you’re already in me,” Louis says awkwardly, fingers messing with the hem of his shirt when Harry turns to glance at him. 

Shaking his head, Harry frowns. “People want to see the whole thing,” he says, tapping his fingers against the desk absently. “The first push inside is important.” 

“But what if we’re filming and I have to pause a bunch of times because I need to adjust, that’d be embarrassing,” Louis says, blushing. 

Harry bites his lip, clearing his throat. “Actually… it’s kind of hot,” he admits, scratching his ear sheepishly. Louis glances at him in surprise and he clears his throat. “If anything, that’s the angle we can go with. _‘Fuckboy corrupts innocent twink,’_ or something. Then it’d make sense.” 

Louis’ face twists at the title suggestion, but he nods a second after. “If you say so.” 

“Let’s just go with it,” Harry decides, spinning around in his chair. “We don’t have to do any scenes either. The context can just come from the dirty talk and dynamic.” 

He glances at Louis who just blinks at him. “Are we filming now?” he asks. 

“I mean - the lighting is good right now so it’d be convenient,” Harry shrugs. “Both of us showered earlier too.” 

“Okay…” Louis trails off. “So are we including the foreplay this time or should I prep first.” 

“I think the foreplay would actually be good for this one,” Harry says, trying to sound nonchalant. “If I do it for you, I mean.” 

Louis hesitates. “Are you sure you want to?” he asks, sounding unsure. 

“Well, I mean, it’s not like it’s a chore, Lou,” Harry jokes, scratching his ear sheepishly. The regret starts to settle in as Louis grimaces. Should he have not said that? It’s not too strange to say fingering someone wouldn’t be a chore, right? 

“I’m just saying you don’t have to waste your time,” Louis says. 

“Waste?” Harry asks, confused. 

“Yeah… like… no one enjoys having to do that part themselves,” he says, shrugging. 

Harry blinks. “Pardon?” 

“The fingering,” Louis says, frowning.

“No one - what do you mean no one likes that part?” Harry asks, completely flabbergasted. 

Louis is frowning, looking confused. “Well… no one I’ve ever slept with has ever volunteered to do it themselves. Sean said it was a waste of his time.” 

Brows furrowing, Harry feels a flicker of anger spark inside him. “A waste of his time,” he repeats flatly, disbelief painting his words.

“Yeah,” Louis says, eyeing him apprehensively. “Right?” 

He takes a second to calm down, inhaling and exhaling quietly. “I think Sean’s given you a false idea of what all guys are like,” he says slowly. His fingers clench unconsciously and he flexes them in his anger. 

Harry’s never said anything about it but he’s never really been the biggest fan of Louis’ taste in guys. Not really appearance wise (Louis has a very distinct type there and while it’s the complete opposite of Harry’s, it’s pretty standard), but in behavior or personality. As much as it angers him that none of them had ever taken the time to prep Louis themselves, he’s not fully surprised. The Sean thing pisses him off though, especially with all the other suspicions he’s had about the man. The urge to punch him has only festered. 

But he doesn’t say any of that. All he does is clear his throat and say a bit gruffly, “Well, I’ve always enjoyed fingering my partners so we don’t have a problem there. I’ll do that bit.” 

Louis looks surprised at that but doesn’t argue. 

They talk through some other points and then Harry tells Louis the plan - laying out exactly what he aims to do so that he’s not taken off guard. They go over some basic rules again: no saying each other’s names, no looking at the camera, and always if either of them need to stop - filming _or_ fucking - they have to say, ‘Red.’ 

Once again, Harry finds himself watching Louis through the camera lens as he gets settled on the bed. He hasn’t taken his clothes off yet because Harry hasn’t decided if he wants to include that in the video. The best option is to film it just in case and then potentially edit it out later. 

He hits the button to start the recording and then stalks to the bed with purpose. 

Louis watches him wide-eyed, looking like a vision in a sweater that’s two sizes too big on him (maybe one of Harry’s now that he thinks about it) and hair mussed. As Harry gets a knee on the bed, he’s thinking it’s not going to be very difficult for Louis to sell the picture of innocence to the viewers. 

Harry meets his eyes, making sure he’s alright, before settling between his legs. “What do we have here?” he drawls, voice heavy. He grips Louis’ hips, feeling him shiver at the touch. His fingers slide underneath Louis’ sweater, brushing over hot skin. “Good boys don’t usually wander into the rooms of guys like me. Are you lost, angel?” 

Sighing out softly, Louis’ eyes flutter shut and he gulps, the bob of his Adam's apple entrancing. Harry doesn’t know if he’s just acting or not but either way, he’s damn good at this. 

“Or did you know exactly what you were doing coming here?” Harry continues, hands sliding up higher under his sweater. “Did you come here on purpose, doll? Wandered into the lion’s den right into the jaws of the beast?” He ducks down and nips at Louis’ jaw, feeling him jerk and then squirm, shuddering. “That’s exactly what you did, huh?”

He trails one of his hands down over Louis’ jeans and immediately presses his palm flat against the small bulge fattening up against his zip. Louis gasps, hips bucking up. Harry smirks, ducking down and sucking at his throat. “You came here looking for something…” he says. He says it loudly so the camera can catch it even though he feels like whispering it right against Louis’ ear - to feel him quiver right after. “Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, voice sultry and smooth like the honey awaiting him on Louis’ pink lips. 

“Wanna -” Louis arches up when Harry presses his palm down harder. “Please,” he gasps. “Please fuck me.” He sounds wrecked, shaking on the sheets and somehow looking debauched with all his clothes on, a rosy flush spreading across his cheeks and down his neck and lips red where he’s been biting them. 

“Oh, is that what you want?” Harry asks, nosing up his neck. “You want my cock, huh? Want me to ruin you, angel? Make you scream and cry and then send you home with an ache between your legs that reminds you of the monster that put it there?” He cups Louis’ prick, other hand rucking his sweater up to play with his nipples. He chuckles when Louis squirms. “Thought all angels know better than to mess with demons.” 

Louis’ eyes fly open and he lets out the smallest whimper - so soft, yet it goes straight to Harry’s cock, burning through his already flimsy patience. 

He continues stroking Louis over his jeans, faltering when he feels it. He looks down and stills, lips twitching smugly. 

“Oh, angel,” he coos, voice silky smooth. “You’re _wet.”_

“Please,” Louis breathes, voice already shot through as he presses up into Harry’s touch. “Please fuck me.” 

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Harry croons. He leans down and seals their lips together, swallowing yet another excruciating whimper. He tugs the sweater off and Louis fumbles with his shirt, hands shaking from how overwhelmed he is. 

They get naked quickly and Harry wastes no time in curling his hand around Louis’ prick, making him arch up again as he begins to stroke softly. “So loud, doll,” he says. “But no one can hear you but me. I’m the only one who gets to hear you scream.” 

“Fuck,” Louis breathes. He says it so softly that Harry isn’t sure if he meant for it to come out or not. His cheeks are bright red, lips parted as Harry reaches for the nightstand and the bottle of lube he set out. 

He slicks up his fingers quickly and leans down to connect their lips again. Louis moans against his mouth when he inches the first finger in. His legs spread automatically, providing the best shot for the camera like they discussed. Harry fingers him slowly but thoroughly, his earlier fury at Louis’ past partners returning and edging him on as he slides a second finger in. 

“God, you’re so tight,” he grunts, pulling back for a second. “Do you ever even touch yourself?”

Louis squirms, shaking his head to go along with the role he’s playing. 

“You poor thing,” Harry murmurs, cupping the side of his face with a big hand. “I’m going to teach you so many things, angel.” He’s pretty sure he’s getting carried away with the talking, but he can’t help himself. Not when Louis shudders every single time, like he can feel the words deep in his bones. “Gonna keep you in this bed with me until you’re sore and aching all over.” 

He punctuates that by easing a third digit in, scissoring and crooking his fingers and making Louis writhe, pushing back onto his fingers like he can’t help it. 

Even though they decided that some struggling would be good, Harry still takes his time to make sure Louis will feel the least pain and discomfort as possible, spreading him open and erasing any bad memory of past lack of foreplay and prep with his fingers.

When he finally switches attention to his own aching dick, Louis looks boneless laid out before him, all soft golden against white sheets. 

Jerking himself off a bit to relieve the tension, he grabs the lube again and slicks up. “Can just fuck you bare, can’t I?” he says tauntingly. “Because no one but me’s seen you like this. Naked and desperate for cock.”

“Your cock,” Louis rasps, eyes glazed over. His small hand snakes out and sneaks around his to grip his length. 

Harry groans, letting him get away with it as his hips jerk in anticipation. “Is my angel a vixen in disguise?” he growls, batting Louis’ hand away after a minute. “Hands above your head.” 

Louis obeys immediately. This was another thing they talked about - a power dynamic. Harry’s always been more naturally dominant in the bedroom and after last time, he’s been starting to think Louis is the opposite. Seeing how easily he goes when Harry grips his hips and drags him down the bed, all while keeping his hands above his head like instructed, just proves his point. 

When Harry eases in this time, he’s ready for the wincing and the way his shoulders tense. 

“Don’t worry, doll, you can do it,” he says, cradling Louis’ face with rough fingers as he continues pushing in. “You’re so desperate for it, you’ll just take anything I give you.” 

“Yes,” Louis agrees, stomach heaving as Harry finally bottoms out. 

He doesn’t wait too long before pulling out and then drawing forward, hips meeting Louis’ arse. Legs folded up by his sides, Louis moans softly, arms shaking where he’s failing to keep them still. Harry helps him, tangling their hands together and leaning down to slot their lips together as he finds a steady rhythm. 

All thoughts of filming and angles and lighting fall away until all Harry can focus on is the boy laid out all for him - the sounds spilling from his lips like spun sugar, the thundering of his pulse against the pad of Harry’s thumb when he circles his wrist, the pink blooming across his skin and down his chest.

It hits him like a brick. Louis is so _stunning._ He already knew it but it still feels like a revelation, a blow to the stomach as his thrusts falter before picking up twice as fast. 

“So tight - aren’t you, angel? Because I’m the only one that’s been in you,” Harry grunts. “The only one who’s stretched this virgin little hole.” 

Louis whimpers, head lolling back on the bed. 

He’s not a virgin - far from it, actually. But the way he shakes and moans and clutches at his hand desperately like he’s never felt this much pleasure in his life is undeniable. It makes Harry feel almost wild, hips snapping forward on pure instinctual need. 

Everything else fades away except the drive of his body and the chase of relief. When Louis convulses with his release, he _screams._ It burns like a wildfire through him, pushing him to follow not long after. He pulls out quickly and spills out over Louis' spent body, adding more stripes of white to his honey sweet skin. Louis' lips part at the feeling and Harry can't help but drag a couple fingers through the mess and stuff them into his mouth, feeling something contract inside him when Louis sucks eagerly, eyes fluttering shut. 

Overwhelmed, he falls to his side and catches his breath. 

That was - that was… _wow._ Harry can still feel the remnants of pleasure lingering in his veins, making him feel blissed out and satisfied. He closes his eyes and just basks in it for a second. 

It was the best sex he’s had in ages… maybe even _ever._

And that’s when the weirdness returns. His eyes open and he turns his head to look at Louis who looks completely still, eyes shut and face lax. His lashes flutter every few seconds, the only sign of life beside the slight rise and fall of his cum-stained stomach. 

As if sensing that he’s being stared at, Louis opens his eyes a second later. He turns to face Harry and they just look at each other for a minute. Harry can’t help but wonder if it was as good for him as it felt for Harry. 

Then again, he remembers how carried away he got and cringes. They talked about the manhandling and dirty talk but the degradation just slipped out. “Sorry if, uh, I made you uncomfortable,” he mumbles slowly, “during the video… I didn’t mean to -”

“No,” Louis interrupts abruptly, before blushing. “It was hot.” It comes out shy but sure. 

“Oh,” Harry says, feeling a strange sensation bubble up inside him, “good. Er, good.” 

Louis dips his head to his chin, still flushed pink and boneless. “Do you think that was good for a first video?” 

“Definitely,” Harry says, clearing his throat. “You were - you were fantastic, Louis.”

“You too,” Louis whispers, blushing. “This is so weird.” 

“It’s not,” Harry denies, before cracking a smile. “Okay, it’s a little weird.” 

They smile at each other, both equally uncertain but also satisfied. It may be weird, but Harry knows they’ll be alright. They have to be. 

-

After dinner, Harry uploads the footage to his laptop so he can edit it. He doesn’t want to post it tonight but he does want to get it out as soon as possible. 

It feels even weirder watching back over the raw material, listening to his past-self murmur dirty things and have it ring out now, loud and distinct, through his ear buds. It’s weird to watch himself fuck someone, weirder for that someone to be Louis. 

Once again, he finds himself getting aroused. He finishes polishing off the clips he kept and saves it to his laptop to upload tomorrow with shaking fingers. 

Then he sets his laptop on the bed beside him and exhales as he looks around him and the sheets they were rolling around in just hours ago. 

He really needs to start doing this somewhere else, Jesus Christ. 

-

As much as it’d be convenient if their first video blows up, it doesn’t exactly work like that. It does do surprisingly decent though, decent enough to get comments that communicate a level of satisfaction and a desire for more content which is exactly what they’re looking for. 

A couple people even recognize Harry from his videos with Olivia - the tattoos aren’t exactly discreet so he’s not too surprised. It’s what pushes him to text his ex-girlfriend for the first time in months, asking her if she could give them a shout-out and she agrees. It’s not that he didn’t expect her to - they ended on good terms and all - but he’s still appreciative. 

The plan now is to film as much as possible. They end up filming their second video on Tuesday afternoon, another simple one of them fucking on a bed. They’re going to have to spice it up sometime soon, but for now, this works. 

Harry continues editing and uploading each video, and begins considering the option of starting a Patreon for exclusive content. The suggestion comes from a comment - a person who ends up giving them their first tip on video four. 

After mulling over the thought, he stands up and grabs his laptop to bring it to Louis. 

He’s in his room, going over notes from an exam with his glasses perched on his nose and sleeves of his sweatshirt pulled over his hands. “What?” he asks, noticing Harry’s expression. 

“We should start a Patreon,” Harry says, forgoing any build-up. 

Louis sighs. “Should’ve known you weren’t asking me to edit a paper.” 

“Actually, I need to do that too, but I have to finish citing,” Harry says, ignoring Louis’ eye-roll. They have an agreement - Louis edits his papers and Harry helps him with maths. He sets the laptop on the desk, smiling at the familiar rows of Sanrio plushies lined up on the shelf to the side with fairy lights woven around them in typical Louis fashion. 

Louis collects the plushies. He has ever since he was a kid and while he’s got a ton more at home, a good number of them still reside here in his room during the school year. 

Harry’s listened to plenty of explanations of which one is which and what they meant but he’s never been good at keeping up with things like that. Despite his lack of knowledge on the different characters (he still gets My Melody and Kuromi confused which is apparently horrifying), he’s known pretty much since forever that Louis’ favorite Sanrio plushie is Cinnamoroll. He’s got multiple plushies of him but his most treasured one is the Alice in Wonderland one that he’s had for years. It sits in the very middle, surrounded by all the others. 

“So where exactly did this come from?” Louis asks. 

“Someone commented about it on our last video,” Harry says, plopping down on Louis’ neatly made bed. “We can offer some exclusive pictures and short videos for the highest tier. It’s a good idea.” 

Louis frowns. “Still no faces, right?” 

Harry nods. “Just some artsy nude photos for the patrons. I think it’ll be good.” 

“If you say so,” Louis shrugs. Easy as that. 

Later on when the sun is casting golden rays through the windows of the living room, Harry has Louis get naked and pose for him. He’s shy about it at first but Harry coaxes him into it. The way the light curls around his honeyed skin is completely natural and effortless. The photos are all soft skin and delicate curves - no edits or filters needed. 

When Louis’ done, he photographs Harry in various poses, lots of torso shots and one of his hands loosely gripping his soft cock. The expression of concentration on Louis’ face as he works - nose scrunched, tongue in cheek, and brows furrowed - is strangely distracting, but Harry schools himself as best as he can. 

After getting a good collection of photos, Harry gets Louis to lean up against the wall with his legs spread and then films himself fingering him until he shudders out his release, thighs shaking and fingers curled into his knees, desperate little noises falling from his lips. 

Exclusive video number one: check. 

-

“Good practice, Payne,” Harry says, clapping Liam on the shoulder. They did some practice scrimmages today with the boys, splitting the team into two - Harry leading one and Liam leading the other. Harry’s team won but it was a good game all around. 

“Thanks, Captain,” Liam says, shooting him a half-smile. 

They move to their individual lockers and Harry rummages for his clothes, smiling when the sticky note Louis snuck into his bag slips out. Leaving each other little notes has been a thing they’ve done for a while now, messages ranging from reminders about groceries or upcoming events to wishing good luck and spreading some positivity when one of them is sad. This one is just a simple reminder but it still makes Harry’s smile grow as he reads. 

**_don’t forget to pick me up from work >:( _ **

(As if he could ever.) 

And then a smaller: **_ordering pizza tonight!_ **

Liam glances at it over his shoulder. “Haven’t seen Lou in a while. How is he?” 

“Pretty good,” Harry hums. “Stressed about some classes but we’re figuring it out.” 

“Hey, didn’t you guys get your rent upped a bit ago?” Liam asks, brows furrowing. “What happened with that?” 

Harry bites his lip. It’s been about a month since they started posting videos and they’ve built up a pretty good momentum. Nothing too big, but with the tips they’ve received, payments from new patrons, and the ad revenue generated from their sixteen uploaded videos, they were able to pay their newly raised rent for the month of November and have money left over. “Uh… we ended up figuring something out,” he says slowly. 

“What’d you guys do?” Liam asks, looking curious. 

He grimaces, thinking _you don’t wanna know, mate._ Miraculously, one of their teammates hollers from another row about how they’re going to crush the competition this upcoming season and the question is thankfully forgotten. 

It’s not that he’s embarrassed about the act itself - you gotta do what you gotta do and all that. But he can’t stop thinking about Niall who still to this day always makes a point to mention how weird it is that he and Louis are regularly sleeping together while claiming it’s just platonic. 

People just don’t understand. They don’t understand that casual sex is nothing compared to the bond he and Louis have. And while Harry can admit he enjoys fucking his best mate maybe way more than he should, maybe enough for him to look forward to filming videos because it means guaranteed relief and pleasure for both of them, but it still hasn’t changed a thing. They’re best mates and they always will be. 

The sex is just a nice bonus - convenient and efficient. And the money they’re making is pretty damn good and only getting better, fast enough that Harry’s already been thinking about upgrading his gym subscription. He’s seen Sanrio catalogues laid out on Louis’ bed, as if he’s been thinking of making some purchases himself with the extra cash.

There’s actually quite a bit of things Harry’s been thinking about when he’s never been able to afford thinking about them before. Replacing his old guitar that he’s had since he was fifteen - strings so worn they tremble beneath his fingers with even the most gentle pluck. Concert tickets for the following year that he’s been wistfully eyeing for months now. Some rugby gear he’s had bookmarked on his phone just in case. 

He can’t afford all of that, obviously, and he doesn’t know if he will for a while. But it’s nice to think about, and even nicer to think that even if he can’t have all, he can maybe have some - a whole lot more compared to what he could have at the beginning of this year. 

Realizing he’s zoned out, he tunes back into the conversation and laughs along with the boys when Winters tells some wild story about last weekend. A bunch of the boys had gone out and Harry was going to go with them but instead he stayed home and fucked Louis over his desk. The red imprints of his hands blooming across Louis’ arse cheeks afterwards never stray too far from his thoughts. 

He eventually grabs his clothes and goes to take a shower, scrubbing quickly and washing away all the sweat and grime that’s accumulated on his skin over the past few hours. When he’s finished, he just stands there and lets the water soak him for a little while longer. 

Predictably, his thoughts drift towards Louis. Not his naked body, though those kinds of thoughts have been fluttering through his mind during showers in the past few weeks as well, but of how they’re probably going to watch a film tonight along with their pizza and bicker about whose turn it is to decide. Harry will end up relinquishing control of the remote to a smug Louis because he knows how to pick and choose his battles and enduring a miffed Louis for the entirety of a movie is something he’d rather not do. 

Feeling oddly choked up, he thinks about how lucky he is to have found a friend like Louis. Because even though he’s a pain in the arse, he’s kind and genuine and he’s always there for Harry when he needs him - always there to comfort him when he’s frustrated, to cheer him on at games, and to tell him he’s being an idiot when he’s being an idiot. He’s such a good friend and Harry is so so lucky. 

Snapping out of it, he turns the knob to switch off the faucet and grabs a towel to wrap around his hair. He steps out of the stall and shakes out his sopping hair, exhaling. 

Glancing back at tiled walls, it hits him that he and Louis have never filmed any shower sex. It may be a cliche but it’s definitely a classic. 

He surveys the row of showers thoughtfully, the beginnings of an idea forming in his head. 

-

“What are we doing here?” Louis asks, brows furrowing as the locker room comes into view. He looks soft with hair still damp from a shower and face clean-shaven. 

Harry pulls out the keys, entrusted to him as the captain of the team. In his other hand is a bag with his camera and tripod as well as a small stagelight he actually borrowed from Lucy, the stage manager of the Autumn Play, when he had gone to pick Louis up from rehearsal a few days ago. “Filming a video,” he says with a grin. 

The realization settles over Louis’ face slowly. “Locker room sex? Really?”

“C’mon, it’s a classic,” Harry says, grinning. “And I have special access so might as well take advantage of it.” 

“What do you want to do?” Louis asks. 

“I was thinking we could do a combination type video,” Harry says, inserting the key and unlocking the door. He holds it open for Louis to enter first, following him inside and flicking on the lights. “Like, you lean up against those lockers and I eat you out a little and then we can fuck in the showers later.” 

Louis shoots him a look. “One day we’ll talk about your habit of saying everything so casually even when it’s really dirty,” he says, rolling his eyes. “But okay, sounds good to me.” 

Even in a new environment, the way they work around each other and get everything set up has become almost seamless. Harry has to get creative with how he positions the camera, propping the tripod on the bench (along with a bottle of lube for later) so that when Louis leans up against the locker and Harry sits down on the bench behind him, it catches a good shot of his arse and thighs, made even better by the light they angle from aside. It gets a good view of Harry’s hands and a hint of his jaw when he spreads Louis’ cheeks and licks a wet stripe up his perineum. 

Head thunking forward into the metal, Louis shudders. Harry adjusts his grip on his arse before diving back in for another slow drag of his tongue down his crack. 

Harry’s always enjoyed doing this for partners, enjoys feeling someone shake and writhe and completely fall apart from nothing but his mouth and pure will. And Louis is a whole other story. He’s so responsive, is the thing. He is with everything but _especially_ with this. Harry can feel his thighs quiver against the pads of his fingers - the way he jerks when Harry circles his rim with the tip of his tongue, a high whine tearing through his lips. 

The sounds trickle in pretty soon too, a breathy chorus of, _“Ah, ah, ah,”_ filling the room and echoing off of the walls and in Harry’s brain, imbedding into his memory. He hasn’t even gotten inside him yet, and he’s already such a mess. 

Close to trembling minutes later when Harry still hasn’t let up on the teasing, he’s resorted to pushing his arse back, trying to press into his tongue. Harry pulls back, an ache beginning to settle in his jaw from how wide his mouth has been. 

“Don’t get greedy, honey baby,” he scolds, voice low and gritty. Then he raises his hand and lands a smack to his arse, watching the way it bounces at the contact. Louis whimpers, hips bucking forward and into the locker door.

Harry flattens his hand over the reddened cheek, rubbing soothingly. They’ve discussed spanking recently but this is the first time he’s done it so he still wants to be careful. When Louis pushes his hips back again needily, he takes it as permission to continue. 

Grazing his teeth over Louis’ rim teasingly, he lands another two smacks in a row. One on each side. Louis jerks, almost shaking. 

He doesn’t hit too hard but it’s still enough for a rosy pink to bloom across his skin in the shape of his palms, matching with the desperation blooming across Harry’s mind. 

Finally, he gives Louis what he wants and dips his tongue past his rim. Well, he does that for a second before retracting again to circle it, making Louis whine in frustration. Harry would be lying if he said he wasn’t doing it on purpose. 

What can he say? Louis is just so easy to tease. He’s panting as Harry spanks him again, doing three in rapid succession on the left and then the right. He licks into his hole at the same time, lapping at his entrance with vigor.

Quaking against his hands, Louis moans. “More,” he rasps, a distinct pleading in his tone.

Harry smacks him in reprimand. “You’ll take what I give you,” he says, biting at the plump part of his arse and making Louis jolt again. “Because you’re my little slut. Aren’t you, honey baby?”

Louis whimpers in response, croaking out a cracked, “Yes.” 

Rubbing his hip approvingly, Harry pulls back to study how the skin of his arse is looked, a flushed imprint of his hand already forming. It satisfies something carnal in him to see such distinct evidence of his presence branded on Louis' skin, pushing him to keep going.

He continues with his ministrations, holding Louis’ cheeks apart and pinning him fully against the locker so that he can’t escape as he licks across his rim lazily. He trades between flattening his tongue across his taint and dipping it back into his hole for languid swipes in and out as he kneads at his cheeks. He takes his time with it, dragging out each movement until Louis is aching for release. 

“What do you want, baby?” he murmurs, pressing an open-mouthed kiss onto his entrance soothingly. “Tell me what you want.” 

“Want your cock,” Louis breathes. _“Need_ your cock. Need you in me.” 

Cock twitching, Harry smacks him one more time before reaching for the lube and slicking up.

He mouths at the soft skin in the backs of Louis’ legs right under the swell of his arse as he eases a finger in, the sound of lube squelching obscenely loud in the empty room. 

Unable to help it, Harry thinks absently what would happen if someone were to show up and see the captain of the rugby team filming porn in the locker room with his flatmate. There’s a sense of danger to it all that has him speeding up, sliding a second finger in as he sucks merciless bruises on Louis’ inner thighs. 

A few minutes later, he eases a third finger in and then focuses on opening him up. He even grabs the camera and gets a close-up shot of his fingers being sucked into Louis’ tight entrance, the sight making his cock throb and his impatience grow. 

Finally, he deems Louis ready and pauses the video. Louis turns around, swaying on his feet and almost tipping over if it isn’t for Harry’s arm snaking around his waist to brace him carefully. 

“Don’t think I can walk,” Louis slurs, sounding dizzy. “Knees weak.”

Feeling unreasonably smug, Harry keeps his mouth shut and instead proceeds to haul Louis up bridal-style.

Louis squeals at the abrupt action but otherwise doesn’t protest. He just clings to Harry tightly with arms around his neck as Harry grabs the camera and tripod and light all in one hand and braces him with the other. 

The row of shower stalls is completely empty, Louis’ yelp when Harry spins him around bouncing off the tiled walls and echoing. Harry sets him down with a grin, arms reaching out to catch him before he tips over. 

“We’re not turning on the water, right?” Louis asks. “Bad for the environment.” 

“No, it’d mess with the lighting too,” Harry says, head ducking down so their noses bump together. “Just get ourselves wet real fast and switch it off for the actual filming.” 

“Okay,” Louis says slowly, eyes wide and blue blue blue as he looks up at Harry. 

They leave the equipment a few feet away and out of water’s danger before shuffling into the stall. Harry knew they were small but it’s different actually being in there with another person, sides brushing and shoulders knocking together. 

He turns on the water and they both tense under the sudden lukewarm spray. As expected, the air gets humid fast, sticking to their skin and soaking them through. Harry’s breath catches when he looks down at Louis and sees the water droplets glistening in his eyelashes. 

Clearing his throat, he turns off the water and exhales. “I think that’s good,” he says. 

There’s not many options for setting up the camera so they just keep the stall door open and set up the tripod right outside, tilted up to catch a shot of their lower halves as Harry hoists Louis up against the wall, two fingers automatically sliding into Louis’ hole to make sure he’s been prepped enough. 

Louis shudders, legs tightening around Harry’s middle and fingers digging into his shoulders as his head lolls back and hits the wall with a small thump. 

Harry goes slowly, pressing up into Louis with drawn out shifts of his hips. The angle allows him to push in deep, the tight clutch around his cock feeling like utter bliss as he thrusts up. Louis’ cock slides against his stomach with every movement, making him shake in pleasure. 

“Doing so good for me,” Harry praises, mouthing up Louis’ neck and grazing his teeth over the muscle there and resisting the urge to bite down and leave a visible mark to remind Louis he was there. “Feel so good, honey.” 

“H,” Louis whines and Harry bites his lip in reproach. It’s not technically his name though… and it sounds so beautiful coming from Louis’ raspy, broken voice that Harry can’t help but savor it. “Please.” 

He presses Louis back into the tiles even more, adjusting his angle as he picks up the speed. He can tell that Louis’ close - the way he’s unconsciously cutting crescent shapes into his shoulders from how hard he’s holding on just one of the signs. That and the fact that being thoroughly rimmed has already rendered him boneless. He renews his efforts, flattening a hand against the wall for leverage and thanking the lucky stars for all the muscle endurance he’s built up in the past couple of years from rugby and personal motivation as he drives up. 

“Oh,” Louis breathes, chin dipping down and knocking into Harry’s almost painfully. His eyes are fluttered shut, looking so beautiful that Harry can’t help the way he seeks out his mouth, licking into honey-sweet lips as he brings Louis to the edge. 

The camera doesn’t even capture anywhere close to their faces so there’s no reason for them to kiss but Harry can’t help it.

Louis quakes, gasping into Harry’s mouth as his orgasm hits him in waves. He clenches down and Harry groans, lips pressing harder against Louis’ as he chases his own release. 

His hips meet Louis’ arse a final time as he shoves in as deep as he can, shuddering as he empties inside him. 

Feeling almost dizzy, he waits a minute before pulling out and setting Louis back onto the floor. “Good?” he checks. 

“Good,” Louis rasps, breathless. He looks dazed, remnants of a flush painted across his cheeks and spreading down his neck. 

Harry feels the sudden urge to kiss him on the forehead, maybe curl his arms around his waist and hold him close. It takes him off guard, stumbling back until his back hits the opposite wall. 

Louis stares at him in confusion and he fumbles for an excuse. “Sorry,” is all he can come up with, shaking his head helplessly. He clears his throat, ignoring the concern in Louis’ eyes. “You can shower. I’ll get the camera and stuff ready and then go after you,” he says flatly. 

Not showering together is a deliberate decision, for the best of them both, but it still feels wrong when he says it. Louis just nods, oblivious to any internal turmoil as he reaches for the knob. Harry slips out of the compartment and closes the door gently behind him, exhaling. 

His heart is still pounding, adrenaline running out but still burning through him like a wildfire. Behind him, he hears the telltale sound of the shower switching on, water roaring in his ears. He can hear Louis start to hum too - they’ve both always been the people who sing in showers. 

Snapping out of it, he grabs the camera to pause the recording, realizing he’s just been standing there like an idiot for a few minutes. He listens to Louis start singing for another little bit before shaking his head and heading back to the lockers where they left their clothes, mind whirling with conflicting thoughts and feelings. 

And as he takes his own turn to shower and they drive back to the flat in Fiona, blasting ABBA per Louis’ request, he can’t help but feel like something’s changed. 

-

Louis whistles when he steps out of the bathroom, trailing his eyes over his suit-clad body appreciatively. “You clean up nicely, Styles,” he says. 

Harry pulls at his lapels nonchalantly, smirking. “Thank you.” 

Rolling his eyes, Louis just snorts. He eyes Harry critically before stepping closer and tugs at his tie until it loosens a bit. Then he undoes the first few buttons of his shirt, letting his swallow tattoos peek out. “There,” he says, satisfied. 

He shrieks when Harry smacks his bum. “Save it for the video, asshole,” he complains. 

“I’m still a bit concerned about the aftermath for this,” Harry says, brows furrowing. “I really don’t want to go to dry cleaners for cum on my suit jacket.” 

“I told you - we can clean it out ourselves with the right detergent,” Louis says, rolling his eyes because Harry may have brought this up way too many times since he suggested the idea for the video. “We’ll soak it and it’ll be _fine.”_

“You’re taking it in if it doesn’t work,” Harry says, shaking his head. 

“Whatever,” Louis grumbles. “Now hurry up.” 

Louis sets up the camera this time while Harry drags one of the arm chairs from the living room towards a blank wall for a good backdrop. They mess around with angles and lighting for a few minutes before settling on the best shot. 

Then Harry hits ‘play’ and they fall into their roles. 

He turns and Louis crashes into him, legs tangling together as their lips meet. Harry sucks Louis’ bottom lip into his mouth, savoring the taste of honey. He had actually seen Louis apply the lip balm earlier this morning this time and he’s been looking forward to tasting it all day. 

It’s been nearly a week since they’ve been able to film a video so they’re doing two today to make up for it. Harry didn’t expect to feel too big of a loss when they went a few days without this arrangement, but for some reason he did. 

And when he woke up this morning, his first thought was that they were filming today and he had genuinely felt _excited._

It’s because the sex is good, he reasons, but it’s still weird. He’s not meant to rely on this routine - it’s not meant to be a routine at all, in the first place. But unconsciously, he _has_ been relying on it, depending on Louis for sexual satisfaction and dopamine. If he thinks too hard about it, it starts to get weird so he doesn’t. 

He just kisses Louis harder, stumbling back until the backs of his knees hit the chair and he can sit down and splay his legs out cockily. Louis crawls into his lap, settling his arse over Harry’s already-growing erection and sliding his fingers over Harry’s scalp. 

Harry drags his hands down his back and under the fabric, stroking over warm skin and feeling Louis shudder at the touch. He’s only dressed in a thin shirt and sleep shorts, in stark contrast to Harry’s formalwear. But, hey, people apparently really like that disparity and Harry can’t lie and say it doesn’t turn him on the slightest bit too. 

It gets even more stark when Harry brings his hands down to Louis’ arse, groping him lazily. Eventually he slides them under his shorts to squeeze at his bare arse cheeks. Louis shudders at the touch, lips parting on a gasp that Harry swallows greedily. 

They make out a little bit longer before Harry gets impatient, a warm body squirming directly on top of his dick. He pulls at Louis’ shorts and Louis helps him take them off along with the white cotton panties that they decided would add a nice touch for the video (Louis suggested it and Harry definitely wasn't complaining), his shirt following long after. Now Harry is left completely dressed with Louis naked in his lap. 

Louis wastes no time in grinding down on him. It’s slow but direct, pressure excruciating even over the layers of fabric. He flattens his hands against Harry’s chest, petting the fabric softly as he moves his hips teasingly. 

Harry groans, kneading at his arse and then spreading his cheeks to rub a dry finger over Louis’ hole, making him moan. 

“How was work?” Louis asks, breath hitching as Harry continues playing with his rim. This is the scene they decided on: some sort of business man needing to take his tension out on something (someone). 

“It was shit, baby. This whole week has been shit,” Harry answers, biting at Louis’ earlobe. It comes out more honest than he intended, feeling his own exhausting week filled with too many assignments and training with little reprieve weigh down on him. “How about you take my mind off of things, honey?” he drawls darkly. 

“Yes, sir,” Louis says, and _oh,_ they didn’t talk about that at all, but Harry’s cock twitches in approval. 

He bites down harshly on Louis’ shoulder, feeling him jerk at the sting. Then he reaches over to the lube which they’ve conveniently left to the side (it can’t all be natural, alright) and hands it to Louis. As much as he enjoys being the one to finger him open, he’ll enjoy the alternative sometimes too. “Get yourself ready for me, honey,” he commands. 

Louis fumbles with the cap as Harry kisses up his throat, doing his best to make things ten times more difficult for him. But he gets it eventually, slicking up his slim fingers and spreading his legs to ease them inside. 

In truth, Louis already prepped himself a bit before this - their current position and the time constraints too limited for them to do it in real-time, but his sounds are still achingly real as he gets two and then three fingers inside himself, quaking in Harry’s arms. 

The squirming is a bit frustrating though and Harry has to bite his tongue and restrain himself when Louis brushes particularly hard against his swollen length. It’s pure relief when Louis whispers, “M’ready.” 

Harry unbuttons his slacks slowly and pushes them down to his thighs, sucking on a mark near Louis’ collarbone as he grips his own cock and strokes himself lazily. 

Louis is the impatient one now, whining and writhing on his lap. He bats Harry’s hand away and takes over, slim fingers barely wrapping around his entire girth. Before he does anything else, he leans down and presses a kiss to the tip of Harry’s cock in greeting, making Harry groan and buck his hips up. Smirking, he begins to jerk Harry off to relieve some of the tension before straining up on his knees to get positioned. Harry holds him steady with hands on his hips as he aligns himself, Harry’s cock sliding between his cheeks. 

He sinks down slowly but surely, none of the resistance that had been there the first time they did this present now. When he’s seated fully, Harry seals their lips together again. At this point he doesn’t even care if the camera isn’t catching this part - this is just for him. He enjoys kissing his partners during sex and he’s going to do it, even if it’s Louis. 

Arms wind around his neck as Louis gets settled, experimentally rolling his hips forward and making Harry hiss into his mouth, hands clamping over his hips. 

“Sit back and relax,” Louis pulls back to say, voice smooth as silk as he adjusts Harry’s collar and tugs and loosens his tie. Harry is a bit entranced, lips parted as Louis pushes his hands away from his hips and slowly begins moving. 

Harry realizes quickly that he’s not going to last very long. He’s awkwardly placed his forearms on the arm rests, fingers curling into the wood to restrain himself as Louis lifts himself up and down his cock, each tight drag feeling like pure heaven and sin. 

Louis slides his hands over to his shoulders, massaging them with shaking fingers. “You work so hard,” he murmurs coyly. “There’s a reason you’re at the top, sir.” 

Throat dry, Harry’s eyes flutter shut, feeling overwhelmed. He’s not actually an overtaxed successful businessman and Louis isn’t actually helping him release some steam after work, but it still feels like he’s being compensated for a shitty week with intense pleasure as Louis continues to ride him in earnest now, arse bouncing mesmerizingly and making Harry itch to touch. 

He doesn’t though, knowing that he’s not supposed to for this video. If it weren’t a video, he’d have taken over by now, thrusting up into Louis’ entrance as he sits and takes it beautifully. But he holds himself back for now. 

It’s strange letting someone else do all the work, but not a bad strange. Even as Louis begins to lose steam, he pushes on, thighs shaking as he resorts to grinding into him. He leans forward and mouths sloppily at Harry’s jaw, breath fanning out over his face. 

Harry holds him close, wrapping arms around his waist and pulling him tight against his chest as he feels his release build in his stomach. He lets himself draw his hips, past the point of self-control as he rams up into Louis’ slackening body. 

Louis lets out a strangled whimper as he comes, white stripes spurting up Harry’s suit. As much as Harry had stressed over the cleaning, the actual sight sends him over. He comes with a grunt, shoving up as far as he can as his load empties out inside Louis. 

He lets Louis slot their lips together again, kissing him slow but firm. “A nice reward?” Louis says breathlessly when Harry lets him pull back, remembering the forgotten camera pointed directly to them. 

Leaning forward to peck Louis on the lips, he’s entirely honest as he says, “Just what I needed. Thank you, honey.” 

-

Later that afternoon, they finish filming their second video of the day. Harry tightens his grip on Louis’ hips, pinning him down as he squirms and cries out. 

He slides his tongue back in between his cheeks, wriggling it into his hole and licking in leisurely. They’ve been at this for almost an hour already and Louis is a _mess._

Shaking and moaning and pleading, voice muffled from the pillow he’s got his face smushed against but still loud, loud, loud. 

Harry pulls back yet again, smirking when Louis pushes his arse out needily, mewling into the fabric. He wipes his mouth for what must be the dozenth time before diving back in for more, ears ringing with Louis’ sounds. 

The ache in his jaw has been there for a while, but Harry ignores it the best he can, sucking at Louis’ rim and dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin just to make him quiver. 

“Honey baby, wanna come?” he asks, voice scratchy and hoarse. He’s been getting an immense joy out of edging Louis for a while but he thinks they’ve both had enough. 

Louis moans in response, head shaking vigorously into the pillow. 

This time when he slides his tongue into his hole, he eases a finger alongside it, pumping it in efficiently and determinedly. After such build-up, that’s really all it takes. Louis bites down on the pillow, choking out a strangled moan as he releases onto Harry’s bedsheets. 

Harry rubs his arse as he recovers, before standing up and shoving his sweats down. He fists his own cock that’s been hard for far too long now, angry red and leaking at the tip. Biting his lip, he jerks off quickly before spilling over the flushed skin of Louis’ arse, shoulders caving. 

Then he takes a few deep breaths, opening and closing his mouth to release the tension in his stiff jaw. “Alright?” he asks Louis who's completely still. 

“You’ve killed me,” he croaks after a moment, head barely moving. 

He chuckles at that, before grabbing a rag that he left on the carpet and wiping Louis down carefully. He’s gentle and thorough as he cleans between his cheeks, before carefully turning him over onto his back. 

Louis whines in protest but doesn’t do much else, eyes shut and arms limp at his sides. Harry wipes down his front quickly, before discarding the rag unceremoniously onto the floor again. 

“Help me up,” Louis slurs after another minute, squinting at Harry with half-lidded eyes. 

Harry holds out a hand, pulling Louis to his feet and biting back a smug smile when he sways, unable to find his bearings. He and Louis have done quite a bit of things together by now and he can easily say that nothing gets him quite as spaced out like rimming. 

“Turn off the video,” Louis reminds him, but he’s leaning almost his entire weight on him at the same time so Harry is reluctant to leave. 

“Sit down,” he says, guiding him back until he slumps on the mattress, pouting. 

Smiling fondly, Harry heads for the tripod, mind wandering to when they should get this one out. It’s going to be a longer one, he thinks. The footage is going to be a bitch to get through but he can’t find it in himself to feel annoyed. 

He grabs the camera and goes to click the ‘stop’ button, only to freeze, mouth dropping open as he realizes. 

“Should we make dinner tonight or order out?” Louis asks, completely oblivious to his panic. “I know we’ve ordered out a ton this week already but I’m just so damn tired. And God knows I won’t be walking properly for a _while,_ but -” 

“Louis,” Harry interrupts hastily, and he must be able to tell from the urgency in Harry’s voice because he stops talking immediately. 

“What?” he says, eyes wide as he leans forward in bed. 

Harry grimaces, tilting the camera even though Louis can’t see from there. “It wasn’t recording,” he says, dumbfounded. “It didn’t get any of it.” 

“Oh,” Louis says, stunned. “Well, fuck.” 

“I’m so sorry, Lou. I should have double checked,” Harry says, biting his lip roughly. 

“It’s okay,” Louis says, shaking his head. “Not a big deal, yeah?” 

“But we just did all that for nothing,” Harry denies, frustrated. It doesn’t even feel like the truth - he barely even remembered the camera was there the entire time. But it’s still disappointing, especially because they were so determined to film two videos today. 

Louis just scoffs. “It’s not like it was a pain to get my arse eaten, H. Don’t worry about it.” 

“What about the second video though?” he asks, frowning. 

“We don’t technically _need_ one,” Louis shrugs. “I know we’re trying to make money, but it shouldn’t come at the cost of exhaustion. If we want to film one tomorrow, we can, or we can just wait for next weekend.” He softens a bit. “It’s really not a big deal, Harry.” 

Harry nods, sighing. Louis is right that it’s not a big deal but that’s not what he’s concerned about. He _always_ checks the camera at least twice but he hadn’t this time, and that’s because he was barely even thinking about the video. Instead, he was thinking about himself. Himself and Louis, which is exactly what he shouldn’t be doing. There’s nothing wrong with them enjoying sex together but when that enjoyment surpasses the whole purpose of doing it in the first place, then there’s a problem. He needs to get himself in check - remind himself what they’re doing this for because that’s what matters beyond any mutual relief. 

But he doesn’t say any of that. He just keeps nodding. 

“Now, back to what I was saying,” Louis says, continuing on like nothing had happened. “I’m thinking Thai this time. What do you say?” 

-

“This is the part where I’d say ‘I told you so’,” Louis says amusedly. He cocks his hip and crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow. “So, I told you so.” 

Harry rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I’m an idiot. Now can you please help me?” 

Louis sighs dramatically. “If I must.” 

He plops down into the seat across from Harry and holds his hands out expectantly. Harry hands him his phone and watches as Louis expertly swipes candies and eventually beats the level of Candy Crush he’s been stuck on for over a day. 

“How are you so good at that?” Harry huffs, ignoring Louis’ smirk. 

“I’d say it’s luck, but it’s really not,” Louis shrugs. “It’s like I always say: you have to have a _plan.”_

Harry rolls his eyes, but he presses the button to begin playing the next level and tells Louis not to go too far. This obsession with a mobile game wasn’t exactly something he intended. He and Louis both started it at the same time and inevitably started racing to see who could stay ahead the longest. Unluckily for him, Louis is some sort of Candy Crush master and is currently around fifty levels ahead of him. 

And even though there’s pretty much no hope of catching up with him at this point, he’s still gone and gotten himself addicted. 

Once again, he gets stuck and loses his last life, forced to wait a few hours for another one. He drops his phone onto the table and groans. 

“You have to think these through, H,” Louis tsks, shaking his head. “Stop being so impulsive.” 

“It’s a stupid game,” Harry grumbles, even though they both know he’s a liar. He changes the topic before Louis can call him out on it. “By the way, Niall wants to know if we’re coming over on Friday for barbecue.”

“Yes, please,” Louis says, and then wrinkles his nose. “But if all he has is that God-awful beer from last time, then no. Never again.” 

“I’ll check,” Harry says, grimacing himself when he remembers the putrid taste. 

Louis taps his fingers on the table absently before slapping the wood abruptly. “Did you remember to post the video this morning?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Harry nods. He had finished editing it late last night and this morning had been rushed because he had training really early in the day and a class directly after. But he ended up uploading it right before slipping out of the door, Louis still peacefully asleep in his own room. “Got it posted and I checked the stats a few hours ago. It’s done the best of all of ours so far. We’re finding some momentum.” 

“Good,” Louis says, smiling. “I have another question.” 

“Shoot,” Harry says, raising an eyebrow curiously. 

“Have there been any comments on any of our videos?” Louis asks. “And have you read any of them?” 

Harry frowns, not expecting that. Though he guesses he should have eventually. Louis feels weird about seeing their videos actually present on Pornhub so he’s stayed away from it, leaving Harry to see how they’re being received. However, it was only a matter of time before he got curious. “Yeah, some of them. They’re all pretty much just comments saying it was ‘nice’ or ‘hot’ or about one or both of us…” 

He doesn’t mention that there’s been quite a bit of speculation about him and Louis’ relationship status. Their bio just says that they’re “broke uni students & flatmates,” but apparently some people think they’re more. 

It’s a bit strange honestly. These people are watching them fuck and probably getting off on it but they’re still curious about his and Louis’ actual lives and dynamic.

There’s literally been comments saying that even when Harry fucks Louis super rough, he shows an undercurrent of something tender and “whipped” that apparently implies feelings on his part. Harry scoffed when he read it, but it’s been unable to leave his mind ever since. 

Clearing his throat, he just shrugs. “There’s nothing really worth it on there anyway,” he says hastily. “Some people have requests but they can pay for those if they really want them.” He doesn’t know why the thought of Louis seeing those comments and speculations worries him so much - maybe a part of him fears that Louis will react badly and want to stop everything.

And stopping everything would be bad because they’ve been doing well so far, Harry maintains. They’d lose their best shot at keeping up with their increased rent and that’s what’s most worrying. Obviously. 

However, Louis just nods. “I’ll take your word for it.” 

“Do you want to film two videos on Saturday instead of one because next week is going to be busy?” Harry asks. 

“Sounds good to me,” Louis says. “Just remember to hit record this time,” he adds, shooting Harry an amused look. “And nothing too extreme. I have to be at the school in the evening for opening night, remember?” He glances at Harry. “And you’re still coming, right?”

“Of course,” Harry says, offended that Louis even had to ask. As if he wouldn’t be first row to see Louis acting as one of the main roles. 

“Good, just checking,” Louis says. “And obviously I’ll be busy every Thursday night and Sunday night for the following two weeks too.” 

“So will I,” Harry says, raising his eyebrows, “because I’m coming to see you every time.” 

Louis blinks. “Wait, what?” 

“I already have tickets, didn’t I tell you?” Harry asks. When Louis shakes his head, he just shrugs. “Oops.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Louis says, but he sounds pleased. 

“I want to,” Harry grins. “You’re going to do amazing,” he adds, softer this time. 

There’s a light pink blush on Louis’ cheeks before he clears his throat. “Okay, did you finish that essay you were stressing about? Because I’m free to read it later tonight if you check my maths for my Stats homework.” 

“Deal,” Harry says. Louis moves to walk past him, probably to go off to his room, but Harry catches him around the middle and pulls him into an impromptu hug. 

Patting his back in surprise, Louis nuzzles into his shirt. “Mmm, what’s this for?” he asks. 

“Just glad we’re friends,” Harry says, feeling a bit choked up for some odd reason. He allows himself a few seconds to rest his head on top of Louis before lifting it again. “Glad I met you, Lou.” 

“Glad I met you too,” Louis says, sounding fond as he pulls away and goes to leave again. But he’s not finished yet, calling out from over his shoulder teasingly, “Even though you suck at Candy Crush.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. 

He’s so glad. 

-

Louis is really good at sucking cock. 

Harry learns this Friday afternoon when he comes back to the flat after hanging out with Niall only for Louis to grab his hand and pull him to his bedroom. He asked Louis to explain but what he got in response was Louis gesturing to the camera he already had set up and then dropping to his knees. 

So they got their first custom clip request. Apparently people want to see hunk fuck honey’s throat and Jesus Christ, Harry could get used to this. 

He’s standing in the middle of his room, hands tangled into Louis’ soft hair as the boy goes down on him. There’s a black blindfold tied around his eyes, mostly to maintain anonymity than anything else, and he’s got one hand around the base of Harry’s cock, working him up to full hardness embarrassingly fast. 

The groan that comes out of his mouth as Louis licks up the side of his cock is unintended but he can’t help it. He tightens his hold in Louis’ hair as he suckles on the head of his cock lazily, pink tongue poking out to lap at the precum dribbling from the tip. 

They’ve barely even started and Harry already feels wild with desperation, the urge to curl a hand around the nape of Louis’ neck and make him take his entire cock into his pretty mouth growing steadily inside him. But he has to wait - it’s about the video first and pleasure second. 

Louis takes his time sucking him in, cheeks hollowing as his lips slide over more of Harry’s length. He’s still jerking him off lightly with a small hand, head bobbing with every movement as he slowly takes in more and more. 

The pressure of his tongue ignites a frisson of heat in Harry’s stomach, legs close to quivering by the time Louis decides they’ve done enough build-up and promptly sinks down until the head of Harry’s cock is bumping the back of his throat. 

“Fuck. Your mouth, baby,” Harry groans, eyes flickering shut from pure pleasure. 

He’s not even taking the entire length but he might as well be for how good it feels. Harry can’t help but slide one of his hands around to wrap around the base of Louis’ neck, thumb coming up to rub at where his cock pillows at the side of Louis’ cheek. 

In that second, he’s glad there’s a blindfold preventing him from seeing Louis’ wide blue eyes staring up at him from underneath his lashes because he most definitely would have lost it then and there. 

Instead, he tries to take deep breaths, stomach expanding with every inhale as Louis hums around his length, vibrations sending shivers down his spine. 

Louis taps his thigh, a reminder to get to the real part of the video. 

Harry would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a thrum of anticipation run through him at the thought of being able to fuck Louis’ throat, but he’s still as gentle as possible as he guides Louis’ head up and carefully slides his cock out and back in between those saliva-slick lips. 

The glide is measured and controlled, but Harry feels almost feral as he pushes his cock to the back of Louis’ mouth, eyes glued to the way the muscles of his throat contract to accommodate it. He tightens his hold on Louis’ head, feeding him each inch of his cock with fervor as he for once prioritizes his own release. 

And for his part, Louis just sits there and _takes_ it. 

He doesn’t protest when Harry thumbs at the corner of his mouth, pulling at it until his lips stretch even wider. 

“Feel like heaven,” he grunts, thrusting in a bit deeper this time and holding Louis’ head to his crotch until he’s choking on his length, throat contracting and tears falling from under the blindfold. He releases him then, thumbing over his wet cheek gently. “Good boy. Taking me so well.” 

He isn’t sure but it seems a little bit like Louis straightens up with the praise, relaxing his throat as much as possible so Harry can push deeper and deeper past his mouth. 

Harry feels a little like he’s on a different plane of existence, hips moving unconsciously as everything in his conscience fades to a dull drone except for his arousal. As much as he tries to drag it out, Louis’ mouth is truly something extraordinary and he feels his orgasm build quickly. “Gonna come, baby,” he warns. 

In response, Louis sucks him down as far as he can, nose bumping into his pelvis. His fingers reach back to brush over the sensitive skin of his balls. The pressure is incredible and Harry fucks in once, twice, and three times before he’s coming with a groan. 

Louis sucks him through it, swallowing everything Harry gives without hesitation. Some of it dribbles out into his chin but Harry swipes it up and feeds it back to him, pink lips puckering as he suckles around the digits. He looks dazed when Harry pulls him up to his feet, undoing the buttons to his jeans and tugs them down so the camera can get a good shot. He wraps a loose fist around his leaking prick and jerks him slowly but firmly. 

When Louis’ head drops to his shoulder with a shudder, Harry snakes an arm around his waist to hold him steady, turning his head to press a kiss to his temple before he can overthink it too much. 

The abrupt and harsh ringing of his phone makes them both jump. Heart racing, Harry fumbles to take his phone out of his pocket and hang up because Louis is like putty in his hands and there’s no way he’s pausing this. He freezes when he sees it’s a call from his mum, suddenly remembering that he promised to call her earlier. 

“Wassit?” Louis croaks, making Harry realize that he’s stopped his movements. 

An idea forming in his head, he grabs Louis’ hand and curls it around his phone, pressing the answer button. Louis’ eyes bulge out in panic, right as Harry squeezes his cock and shoves three fingers into his mouth to muffle the resulting moan. 

Louis whimpers, swallowing around his fingers. Harry presses his ear to the phone Louis is shakily holding up, hoping that the huskiness of his voice won't give him away.

“Hey, Mum,” he says loudly. 

“Darling?” his mum says. “Did you forget to call me?” 

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that. I kind of forgot about it. Me and Lou are actually out right now,” he says, feeling Louis whimper around his fingers, pressing his burning face into Harry’s shoulder. He doesn’t seem to be protesting or uncomfortable at all though so Harry carefully begins jerking him off again, entranced by how he immediately presses into it. 

“Oh, is he there? Can I talk to him?” Anne asks eagerly. He huffs in amusement. Of course his mother is more excited to talk to Louis than him - typical. 

“He’s actually a bit... preoccupied right now, but we can call you back when we get home, okay?” Harry says, thumbing over the head of Louis’ cock and twisting his hand to feel Louis tremble, close to his release. 

“Of course! Take your time, darlings,” she says. “Tell Lou I say hello.” 

“I will,” Harry says, grinning when Louis bites down on his fingers. “Bye, Mum, love you.” 

“Love you, sweetheart,” she says, completely oblivious to what’s occurring on the other end of the phone. The moment she hangs up is the exact same moment Louis spills out into Harry’s hand, mewling around Harry’s digits. 

Harry throws his phone onto the bed unceremoniously and rubs Louis’ back as he recovers. 

“You’re a fucking bastard,” Louis chokes out when Harry finally takes his fingers out. 

He just smirks in reply. 

After they clean up and end the video, Louis gets back on his knees and takes his softened cock into his mouth so Harry can take a picture using the full-length mirror of a dark head pressed against his groin, his laurel tattoos appearing almost like a crown above Louis’ head. 

Louis pulls off and then rests his head on Harry’s thigh, trying to catch his breath. There’s tears on his cheeks from how overwhelmed he got, hair mussed from Harry’s fingers and lips cracked and swollen red. 

Harry stands as still as possible, rubbing the back of his head soothingly until he finally rises to his feet, swaying a bit. 

“Are you going to keep that bit in the video?” Louis asks, damp lashes fluttering enchantingly. 

“I think we should,” Harry admits. “It wasn’t even staged - just completely authentic. The requester will enjoy it, I think.” 

Louis nods. “Okay… Just -”

“-blur out your name - yeah, of course,” Harry says. He bites his lip, feeling guilt bubble up inside him. “I’m sorry for just springing you into that without asking first,” he says. 

He’s surprised when Louis just rolls his eyes. “It was hot,” he confesses, looking embarrassed. “Maybe exhibitionism really is my thing,” he says, giggling. 

“Maybe so,” Harry says, throat dry.

“Wanna watch a film before going to Niall’s?” Louis asks after a moment, voice still shot-through. “And after you shower and we call your mum, of course.” 

Biting his lip and resisting the urge to tug Louis closer, Harry nods. “You can pick the movie,” he says lightly, smiling when Louis beams. 

He showers quickly and then joins Louis in the living room. They sit on opposite ends of the couch when they talk to Anne for a little bit, and then Louis props his feet in Harry’s lap when they put on the film, just like always. The movie passes with him making comments about the characters and scoffing at any cringy dialogue or action scenes, just like always. 

Harry himself stays silent for the majority of the movie, a weight settling in on his chest as Louis chatters on. 

It’s just like always, is the thing, but somehow it’s entirely different. 

-

There’s something about Louis on stage - playing a role and moving the audience with every gesture of his hands and word from his mouth - that’s extraordinary. 

Harry watches, captivated, from the first row where he’s sitting with Niall and Liam. He’s filled with extreme pride and awe as Louis wows the crowd, entrancing them with his monologue and his effortless demeanor and charade. The play might as well have just been Louis and Louis only for how little Harry noticed anything and anyone else. 

He doesn’t even pay that much attention to the story itself, eyes glued to the way lights cast shadows over his face and illuminate his face. Harry can’t help but stare, but he’s not the only one. Everyone is put under Louis’ spell, eyes following him as he moves across the stage. 

When the curtains finally fall and the actors and _Louis_ come on stage for their final bow, Harry stands and claps and cheers until his throat is sore. 

Louis catches his eye and beams, a personal and familiar smile that makes Harry’s hands falter. Then he disappears backstage with the rest of the crew and Harry feels him go. 

Niall and Liam linger to talk to other classmates and friends but Harry gets antsy quickly. He keeps glancing down at the flowers he’s got at his feet. It’s a bouquet of daffodils - just as bright and lovely as Louis himself, and he had gotten them last-minute, almost late to the first act for how close it got. 

When it becomes clear that the story Niall is telling to a random girl is going to drag on for a bit, Harry decides he can’t wait any longer. He needs to see Louis - to tell him how wonderful he was and give him the flowers. So he’ll go find him himself. He taps Liam on the shoulder and lets him know, and then grips the bouquet resolutely and heads backstage. 

It becomes very clear after a few seconds that the room is complete chaos. People are running around in costumes or formal wear, voices mixing into an incoherent babble and sweaty bodies shifting and moving endlessly. The temperature feels about ten degrees too hot. 

Harry gets a bit lost, clutching at the flowers helplessly as he seeks out his favorite star of the night. 

Thankfully the universe seems to take pity on him because Kacey, also one of the main leads of the show, finds him after another couple of minutes. 

“Harry!” she says happily, hugging him quickly.

“Kacey! You were brilliant,” he says honestly, patting her on the back gently when she squeezes him tighter. He clears his throat when she pulls back. “Have you seen -“

“Louis?” she guesses, smirking. “He’s in the dressing room.” She glances pointedly at the flowers and nods. “Nice job, Styles. He’ll love it.”

“Oh, this isn’t…” His protest fades away as Kacey rushes off to talk to someone else.

 _Dressing room,_ he repeats to himself, eyes scanning for a sign or arrow. 

He finds it eventually - a medium-sized placard indicating that it’s the dressing room for the leads. He strides over there quickly, feeling his heart beat loudly in his chest, and then knocks on the door. 

“Who is it?” a voice asks. A familiar airy and lovely voice. Harry exhales. 

“It’s me,” he says, pushing the door open and stepping inside. Louis is the only one in the room, wiping at his stage make-up in front of an illuminated mirror with his face scrunched up in concentration. 

When Louis sees the flowers through the glass, he completely lights up, spinning around with a dazzling smile. His eyes brighten and his grin is blinding, like the sun peering out from the clouds in its shining glory. 

Harry’s breath catches, suddenly rendered speechless.

“You got me flowers?” Louis says, a flush dancing over his cheeks as he rushes over and takes the bouquet and holds it in two hands. 

It takes Harry a second to realize he’s meant to respond. “Yeah, yes, for you,” he stutters. 

Louis’ grin goes soft as he admires the blooms, eyes flickering up to Harry’s with a bashful smile. “You remembered daffodils are my favorites,” he says, a little in awe and a whole lot pleased. 

Fumbling for words, Harry scratches the back of his head. “I… of course I did,” he says, disbelief in his voice. 

“Well, thank you, they’re beautiful,” Louis says, before reaching over and wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. 

Harry hugs back automatically, arms curling around the dip of his waist and doing his best not to jostle the bouquet still nestled in Louis’ arms. _You’re beautiful,_ he thinks dazedly. 

Louis smells like roses and sweat and perfume, and Harry feels suddenly very faint. 

There’s a distinct feeling blooming inside him, spreading across his body and through his mind until he’s breathless. Louis pulls away from their hug and though Harry also retracts his arms, he feels as if he’s been rooted to the spot. 

Because it’s actually quite a familiar feeling, really. Familiar enough to be followed by apprehension because Harry knows what this means. 

He’s felt it before. Felt it many times for many different people over the years, in varying intensities and magnitudes. All of them can be classified as one thing and one thing only though.

It’s the same thing he’s feeling right now, pounding in his heart and clawing up his throat as Louis smiles at him obliviously, still soaking in the post-show glow (fitting, because to Harry he looks iridescent). 

A crush. An overwhelming sometimes brief and sometimes not infatuation for someone. The feeling you get in your chest that’s like something squeezing your heart until you’re bursting. A state of awe over the existence of someone so lovely that you can’t quite believe they’re real. 

“We have to find Niall and Liam,” Louis exclaims abruptly, grabbing his arm. Harry resists the urge to take his hand into his own, exhaling jaggedly. Instead, he lets Louis eagerly pull him away, heart trembling in his chest as the new knowledge settles in his mind. 

Harry has a crush on Louis. He’s got a crush on his best friend, and that is most _definitely_ weird.

-

A week goes by and Harry tries to act as normally as possible. It’s actually kind of funny to him, how unremarkable everything is. He goes to class and training and spends as much time with Louis as he did before. It’s all achingly typical and familiar and _normal,_ and yet Harry feels like the world has shifted on its axis. 

Every time he looks at Louis, he gets a strange choked up feeling in his throat, and it leaves him flustered and lost whenever Louis directs his gaze to him in concern. It’s horrifying, is the thing. 

Where did these feelings come from? 

Sexual attraction makes sense - God, he _knows_ he’s very sexually attracted to Louis and that the sex they have together is always so amazing. But this is different. This is _more,_ and he has no idea where it came from. 

He’s never considered Louis in a romantic way before. Well, okay, maybe the thought crossed his mind when they first met, but it became clear really quickly that they were a perfect match for friendship, not anything else. These… _feelings_ go against everything he’s ever felt before and Harry would be lying if he said it didn’t freak him the fuck out. 

_Temporary,_ is what he determines. This is only temporary. Just a fleeting fancy that will pass after a little while. Because he and Louis are friends and that’s all they have been and all they’ll ever be. They’re _amazing_ friends - fucking platonic soulmates, even. Harry just has to wait it out and then things will be back to normal. 

So that’s what he does, or tries to do anyway. He goes to class and training and spends as much time with Louis as he did before, and he keeps reminding himself how well they work as friends. How important and perfect their friendship is the way it is now. How disastrous it could be if they were to try anything more. 

Right now, he’s going over the footage of the video they filmed earlier today at his desk. Another _normal, typical, not-at-all-unplatonic_ thing… even if them sleeping together is arguably the opposite. 

And yeah, the videos haven’t stopped either. They’re building momentum, alright? They need to keep up with it so that means fucking. Totally platonic and _normal_ fucking. 

This one is another custom clip - a paid request for a video of Louis sitting on Harry’s face. Needless to say, both of them were happy to comply. The shot is compact, showcasing Louis’ torso down to his thighs. He’s completely naked except for a shirt, rucked up past his nipples so the viewer gets a nice shot of the rise and fall of his stomach as he rides Harry’s face. 

The only bit of Harry that can be seenin the video is his jaw, throat, and a sliver of his swallow tattoos, hints of his dark hair peeking through below Louis’ quivering hips. 

It doesn’t show how absolutely hard Harry was, solely from being suffocated by Louis’ _glorious_ thick thighs. Watching it back now, he muses that it really wouldn’t be a bad way to go.

In itself, the video is pretty damn hot - hot enough that Harry finds himself palming at his dick through his sweats, far past the embarrassment of getting aroused during editing clips of him and Louis. 

He bites his lip as video-Louis rocks down onto his face on-screen, thighs splayed wide and arms looped over the headboard and hanging on desperately.

His video-self’s throat contracts as he laps at Louis’ hole vigorously, muscles in his jaw working so distinctly that he can track every flex and movement. 

Louis starts trembling eventually, and Harry’s hands automatically come up to hold him steady, fingers spreading out on the tops of his legs and pressing him down for easier access to lick and nip at his rim. 

When Louis comes on screen, keening as he spurts all the way up his stomach, Harry shoves his pants down and grips his cock more firmly, eyes closing as his orgasm builds inside him.

Flashes of soft skin and blue eyes and sweet honey lips glide through his brain and soon he’s letting out a choked sound, spilling into his fist. 

Once he recovers from his release, the shame sets in. He just got off to Louis - not just sexy video-Louis that could be easily mistaken for a random porn model, but _his_ Louis. 

Louis with the brightest smile in all of England. Louis with kind eyes and constellations on his cheeks. Louis, his best friend, Louis. 

This - this _crush_ has got to stop, he thinks annoyedly. Harry already feels like he’s drowning in it, trying to stay afloat as wave after wave of emotion washes over him. 

For his part, Louis seems completely oblivious. Harry’s attempts to act normal somehow working to the point where he hasn’t mentioned anything wrong beyond Harry’s habit of losing his train of thought whenever Louis does something particularly endearing or sexy. 

Usually, Louis can tell immediately that something’s off, but maybe the idea of Harry having feelings for him is so far fetched that it doesn’t even register as something worth considering. 

Every time they have sex or take pictures for Patreon and every time they do homework together or eat lunch together or sing in the car together and other things they normally do, Harry can feel the weight of awareness pulsing in his chest, clawing up his throat and begging to spill out. 

He can feel it so strongly, but somehow Louis can’t even tell. 

Grimacing, Harry cleans up and finishes uploading the video. He’s not posting it yet. Now that they’ve established themselves a little bit, they’ve slowed down to the standard posting schedule of once a week. It’s a lot more manageable and it’s also given them the opportunity to film videos in advance, especially as finals get closer and they won’t have the time. 

It’s strange but Harry is actually looking forward to finals. He’s hoping the stress and busyness will take his mind off his internal turmoil and even encourage those feelings to die down faster than the rate they’re going now. He needs them gone as quickly as possible. He can’t keep going on like this - _can’t_ have a crush on Louis. 

Too weird. 

_Just temporary,_ he reminds himself for what must be the thousandth time in this week alone. It’s become a sort of mantra. Maybe if he repeats it enough times, it’ll actually come true. 

Maybe if he repeats it enough times, he’ll actually begin to believe it. 

-

“Harry?” whispers a voice. He can hear the slight wobble in it, the way Louis’ voice dips down at the end right as another clap of thunder shakes the air. 

“C’mere,” is all he says back, already scooting over in the bed and holding the blanket up enough for Louis to crawl in.

It’s not that Louis is afraid of storms, more that he doesn’t want to be alone during one which is why he always sneaks into Harry’s bed when one gets bad. Harry feels the same reassurance in the company, already comforted by the quiet shifting and rustling as Louis works to get settled. 

There’s less than a foot of space between them in his double. Louis’ side is pressed to his and he can feel the soft bare skin of his lower arm flush against his own. It’s cold to the touch and Harry gets the overwhelming urge to wrap his warm hand around the circumference which he’d be able to do easily with a couple of fingers, letting the heat bleed into Louis’ skin and maybe squeezing a bit to see how he reacts.

He tries to focus on his breathing, inhaling and then exhaling through his nose. They’ve done this before in the past but it’s different this time. The points of contact between them burn and itch and he aches to put a rest to it. Him and Louis touch all the time and they’re barely touching now yet all Harry can focus on are those few brushes, senses dulling to a low murmur as the sound of Louis’ breathing becomes distinctly pronounced. 

With every breath he takes, Harry’s heart swells a little bit bigger. It feels a little as if it’s going to burst, tearing through his body and out through his lips in a deafening flood. 

They had filmed another video today - one for Patreon, actually. Louis sat in Harry’s lap while “watching TV” and lazy groping escalated until he was spreading his legs and holding them up with his arms as Harry fingered him open - rings on. Afterwards, Harry fucked him into the couch and bit his lip so hard that it bled. 

It was so rough and intense, yet somehow Harry feels more disjointed right here. With uncrossable distance between their bodies and the tether of their friendship teetering dangerously, at least to Harry’s mind. 

He has no clue if Louis is feeling even an ounce of the conflict he’s feeling - if he feels the change between them or if it really is just normal for him. 

Close to the very beginning of their friendship, he had realized that he could read Louis like an open book and he used to take great pride in knowing him inside out just like Louis knew him inside out. But for this, he’s completely lost. 

For this - for this _crush_ and new unfamiliar feelings - Louis is a complete mystery to him. 

Tamping down the sudden rush of apprehension and nausea bubbling up in his throat, he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to sleep, pretending that the body next to him is nothing but a figment of his most vulnerable dreams. 

-

It’s been a while since Louis has suggested they do something crazy. Harry will admit he’d been lulled into a false sense of security. He should’ve known that with Louis, an adventure is an inevitability and not a perchance. 

A new adventure is decided on Wednesday afternoon. Harry was finishing an assignment, not at all expecting Louis to climb into his lap - he’s been a lot more tactical since they’ve started sleeping together. To be fair, he has as well, always reaching out to touch Louis’ hip, brushing his fringe out of his face, or flattening a palm on the small of his back when they go out. 

“Look,” Louis says, shoving his phone into Harry’s face. 

Harry blinks against the brightness, automatically steadying Louis with a hand on his waist. “What?” he says. 

“Read it,” Louis says impatiently. 

Rolling his eyes, Harry curls his hand around Louis’ so he can stop him from moving the phone. He blinks as the ad registers. _Lola’s Bakery is an award-winning bakery dedicated to creating wedding cakes, cupcakes and other specialty desserts that are as unique as your wedding day._ He furrows his brows. “Uh, Louis?” 

“Keep reading,” Louis prompts. “At the bottom.” 

He obliges, skimming through the information until he reaches the last paragraph: _For the next month, enjoy a_ **_free_ ** _in-person consultation and tasting for all engaged couples!_

It hits him a second later and he groans. “Louis!” 

“Free cake, Harry, free cake!” Louis exclaims, squeezing his shoulders for emphasis. “Who could turn this down?”

“We’re nineteen,” Harry says flatly. “No one’s going to believe we’re engaged.” 

Louis narrows his eyes. “People get married younger than us, you know. It happens,” he says. “And it’s not like they’re going to _question_ us!” 

Biting his lip, Harry tries to find another suitable excuse to get out of this. There’s no way he’s pretending to be Louis’ _fiance._ That’s too far. Too much. But try as he might, he can’t think of a viable reason that Louis wouldn’t see right through. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” is what he ends up saying. 

“Free food is always a good idea,” Louis shrugs. “C’mon, Harry, it’ll be fun! We just need some sappy engagement story and maybe how we met. And for that one we can just be truthful, even. Roommates to lovers, eh?” 

_Best friends to lovers,_ Harry grimaces. 

When it becomes clear that Louis isn’t going to leave him alone until he answers, he sighs dramatically. “Fine, but -”

“Yay!” Louis cheers, wrapping his arms around his neck and hugging him giddily. 

Harry tries not to stiffen, hand pressing into Louis’ back and resisting the urge to pull him closer. It’s like he’s a magnet or something, for fuck’s sake. The material of his shirt is soft too - it’s yellow and has Pompompurin on it, if Harry’s not too mistaken. The puppy is carrying a tray of doughnuts and Harry shouldn’t find the fact that Louis probably went to class in this shirt as endearing as he does. “So we have to schedule something?” he asks after a moment, clearing his throat awkwardly. 

Louis pulls back and grins mischievously. “Already done. Our consultation is in two hours.” 

The words register slowly. He blinks and then gapes. “You scheduled it without knowing if I’d say yes?” he sputters. 

“Of course you’d say yes,” Louis dismisses, as if it’s that simple. “It’s free dessert! And you’ve got a sweet tooth.” 

He’s not wrong, but Harry still feels uncomfortably transparent. It’s not the promise of sweets that made him say yes and they both know it. He said yes because he always says yes to Louis - always indulges him. They always indulge each other. 

Exhaling roughly, he tries to sound completely _normal_ as he says, “When we get exposed as fake-fiances by the cake-baking authorities, I hope you have an escape-plan.” 

Louis just scoffs. “I _always_ have a backup plan.” 

-

The lady assigned to helping them tells them to call her Mar. 

She’s either very good at masking her thoughts or she really doesn’t think it’s odd that two boys who look very much like uni students are claiming to be engaged. Either way, she doesn’t say anything about it, and just compliments them on being a “cute couple,” and continues to explain how everything will work. 

Harry still feels awkward where he stands with Louis’ small hand linked with his, every once in a while glancing down at the ring he had slipped onto Louis’ finger before stepping into the shop. It’s not an actual engagement ring or anywhere near it, but it’s still _his_ and it’s on _Louis’_ finger and _fuck,_ if that doesn’t make his heart race a bit faster. 

Mar asks them a bunch of questions about their plans and Louis answers them all casually and easily. “It’s just going to be a small ceremony. Me and H and our family and closest friends,” he says, squeezing Harry’s hands. “Our budget is pretty small too so we’re looking for something simple.” 

“Well, we’ve got plenty of options for you,” Mar says, smiling reassuringly. “Do either of you have any requests?” 

Louis and Harry share a look. “We both love champagne cake,” Louis says, glancing at Harry with a smile. “Right, Harry?” 

“Right, honey,” Harry says, returning the smile. Louis seems to falter at the term of endearment, lips parting as if his mind has wandered. Biting back a smirk, Harry leans forward to press a kiss to his temple. 

“You two are adorable,” Mar gushes, beaming at them. “And we have plenty of champagne cake, don’t you worry!”

She leaves them to go get the samples and Louis leans his head on Harry’s shoulder, peering up at him with soft eyes. “Thank you for doing this with me,” he says. 

“What, marriage? Baby, I think you’ve forgotten that any man that gets to marry you is the luckiest man in the world,” Harry murmurs, rubbing his thumb over the back of Louis’ hand. He tilts his head to the right and catches the exact moment Louis sees the girl wiping down the counter a few feet away, well within hearing distance. 

“I think I’m the luckiest actually,” Louis says, playing along easily. 

Harry’s smile gets a bit forced and he swallows roughly, relieved when Mar returns. Louis has no idea that he wasn’t joking in the slightest. 

The next hour passes in bliss. Louis and Harry stuff their faces with cake and crack jokes and tell Mar an illustrious story of how they met and got together after months of denying feelings and skating around each other. They hold hands and sloppily feed each other bites of cake with wide smiles. Louis giggles when Harry gets frosting on his nose. He wipes it off clumsily, ignoring the way his heart hurts. 

When they reach the end of their consultation, they both have decided that the pink champagne cake with white chocolate shavings and berries was their favorite, but Mar tells them that they have even more options to choose from if they extend their consultation. The only thing is that extending the consultation would mean they’d have to pay the standard price for another hour of tasting, and even though she offers them a discount, Harry is unsure. 

Louis on the other hand looks intrigued. “That sounds lovely. Can we, babe?” He directs the question at Harry who grimaces. 

It’s not a good idea, is the thing. While they aren’t as tight on money as they were before they started their porn stint, it’s still not smart to spend frivolously, especially on things like cake tasting for a wedding that isn’t real - a stunt between friends just for the hell of it. 

But then Louis grins eagerly - soft and sweet and just for him - and he’s wearing Harry’s ring on his finger and his Pompompurin shirt and his hair is all fluffy and mussed from when Harry ran his hands through it a little bit ago. He’s so beautiful and amazing and lovely and Harry feels his resolve crumble into nothing, heart racing. 

“Give my boy whatever he wants,” he says to Mar before he even realizes it. 

He ignores the fester of anguish curling in his stomach, focusing on the wideness of Louis’ smile when she directs another employee to bring out another round of samples. It really had been a no-brainer. Louis had asked and Harry can’t say no. Not to him. Not ever to him. 

Because Louis was right. He does have a sweet-tooth, but his greatest indulgence isn’t a typical dessert. His greatest indulgence is a person and he’s walking next to him right now, eyes bright and a skip in his step. The sweetest person he knows - sweet like honey, sweet like sugar, sweeter than anything he could ever want. 

And like what’s happened with so many other sweets in the past, Harry’s found himself completely addicted. 

-

They come back to the flat after the tasting and Harry feels numb. Louis tells him he’s going to call his sisters and that they should watch a film later and he nods aimlessly, eyes unfocused. 

It’s just - he doesn’t know how to handle this. He doesn’t know how to handle feelings for his _best friend_ that seemingly came out of nowhere. And it really did come out of nowhere, didn't it? He’s never felt anything close to this towards Louis but now it’s all he can feel. 

Or, maybe it started when they began this whole porn thing. It had all been platonic and harmless at first, completely doable. Harry hadn’t felt any romantic interest in Louis before this - before the possibility was served to him on a platter with lube on the side. He never thought about Louis as his boyfriend until he started acting like his boyfriend: fucking him, kissing him, and being intimate and noticing things he never noticed before. Things friends shouldn’t be noticing about each other and usually don’t even get the chance to notice in the first place because friends don’t regularly have sex either. 

If Louis were here, he’d start talking about how the feelings are a result of the connection created through sex - rambling on about how the dopamine released during and after sexual intercourse, especially so often, contributes to an association between ‘sex with Louis’ and ‘pleasure.’ And how eventually, ‘sex with Louis’ is synonymous with just ‘Louis’ and ‘pleasure’ quickly becomes ‘happiness’ and ‘contentment.’

But Louis isn’t here and he doesn’t even know Harry has feelings. And as far as Harry knows, he’s not feeling anything like Harry is - so maybe that Psych stuff is really just bullshit, or maybe Harry has no idea what he’s talking about. 

He thinks about how people always think Louis and him are a couple when they first interact with both of them together. He and Louis always brush it off to the lack of acknowledgement and normalization of tactile male friendships that have no basis of romantic interest, especially for friendships between two queer boys. 

They even laugh about it - when someone would imply them being together, Harry’d jokingly kiss Louis’ cheek and Louis would grab his hand and they’d go on and on with straight faces about how they’re so in love until Niall or Liam apologetically correct the instigator. 

It’s always been a _joke._

But this - this suffocating feeling in his chest, curling around his heart and squeezing like a vice whenever he thinks about what this means for him and Louis - is definitely not a joke. 

He wants it gone. He wants things back to normal where he wasn’t trying to tamp down thoughts about what it’d be like to date his best friend. It’s impossible, is the thing. He can’t stop thinking. 

And what he’s thinking is that it’d be _so easy._ So easy to be Louis’ boyfriend because he already knows him inside out - already knows what he wants and what he likes and how to treat him right. He knows all those things because he’s Louis’ best friend - the best friend he’s ever had. And if he lets himself think even more, he’ll start realizing that they’re already half-way there. 

They _live_ together, spend most of their time together, and Harry spoils Louis way more than he should on a daily basis. They go out and eat together and Harry often offers to pay for both of them, and whether or not Louis lets him doesn’t change the fact that it’s something he does for any one of his dates in the past. They cuddle and comfort each other - always looking out for the other and keeping them in mind when making decisions. 

Not to mention that now they’re fucking _sleeping together_ on the regular, and even though it’s for money and paying rent - they both enjoy it and Harry would feel the loss if they suddenly stopped doing it. 

God, when he lets himself think about it - he’s _already_ dating his best friend and he never even noticed. 

Feeling almost nauseous, he stumbles into his room and slams the door behind him more aggressively than intended. He fumbles for his phone in his pocket, very much regretting how much cake he’s eaten in the past few hours as knots fill his stomach. 

He sends a text and then waits, biting his lip. 

His phone lights up with an incoming call within seconds and he accepts, exhaling jaggedly. He shuts his eyes as he drops into his chair, grimacing. “Niall,” he says. 

“Harry? You good, mate?” Niall asks, sounding confused. 

“Niall,” Harry repeats helplessly. “Remember how you used to joke about how Louis and I were going to end up together?” 

Silence echoes his statement. “Er,” Niall says after a lengthy pause, “yes?” 

He squeezes his eyes shut tighter, voice hoarse when he asks, “Why?” 

“Is everything alright?” Niall asks, sounding confused and slightly concerned. “H, what’s this about?”

“Just answer the question,” Harry urges, voice scratchy. 

“Uh, I dunno… You guys just sort of… fit, I guess,” he says. 

Harry exhales. Well, that’s not helpful at all. “Fit how?” he presses, slumping in his chair and sinking lower until his knees hit the edge of his desk. 

“I don’t know how to explain it, mate,” Niall says apologetically. “It’s like… you two are on a different wavelength that no one else knows how to reach. You’re so in tune with each other and I guess it’s just so uncommon that it takes everyone off guard. Obviously, you’re just friends though.” 

He doesn’t respond. 

“...Right?” Niall asks cautiously. 

Taking a deep breath, Harry tries to find words. In the end, the only thing he can really do is be honest. “I think I’ve got a crush on Louis,” he blurts.

There’s a pause, and then, “Wait, hold up, could you repeat that? Because I could have sworn you just said that -” Niall trails off in disbelief. 

“I have a crush on Louis,” he says, loud and firm. 

“Well, fuck,” Niall says, disbelief coating his voice. “I never expected this day to come. Is there a guidebook or something for when your mate finally gets his head out of his fucking arse -”

Harry scowls. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just saying - these friends with benefits things really end in one of two ways,” Niall says nonchalantly. Like it’s _no big deal._

Letting out a strangled laugh, Harry tilts his head back and opens his eyes to stare at the ceiling. “So you’re not even shocked in the slightest? It’s just me who feels like this is completely insane?”

“It’s not that I’m not surprised,” Niall says carefully. “I am surprised. I meant it when I said I never thought this day would come. Even with the sleeping together thing. You and Louis are just such good friends… but.”

“But what?” Harry asks, unwarranted irritation bubbling up inside him. 

“It’s just that… you and Louis are so good together that it wouldn’t ever be a complete surprise if you finally got together,” Niall explains. “It’s like… half expected and half unexpected.” 

“But _why?”_ Harry sputters. “Because we’re close? Because we’re touch-y sometimes?”

“No, not any of that,” Niall protests, “though the sleeping together thing is kind of weird, mate, you have to admit.”

“It’s for rent,” Harry says moodily.

“I was talking about that time _before_ the rent,” Niall says, sounding amused. “Anyways it’s not even about that either.”

“Then what _is_ it about?” Harry presses, desperate for an explanation - a way to _understand_ this feeling that’s churning in his gut.

“It’s like… Louis is your favorite person, right?” Niall says. 

Harry blinks, mouth dropping open a little. 

“Oh, c’mon, don’t tell me you didn’t know that,” Niall scoffs. “He’s your favorite person and you’re his favorite person. That’s the way it’s always been. You prioritize him. Even when you were with Olivia or other people, you were still prioritizing Louis. I don’t think it was even conscious.” 

“But-”

“I’m not saying your past relationships weren’t meaningful or that you were secretly harboring feelings for Louis the entire time because it wasn’t like that,” Niall continues hastily. “You _know_ it wasn’t like that.” 

Harry nods. He does. 

“But the thing is - you love being around Louis,” Niall says. “You love spending time with him and you always have. Even when it was entirely platonic, you still loved being with him best. It makes sense - you guys are compatible. Romantically, platonically - in every way possible, really. You work well together and that’s why your friendship works well. But when you add in the sex and the touching and the other things that typically distinguish a good relationship from a good friendship… well, the lines between the two are thinner than you think.”

“How do I make it stop?” Harry blurts. “How do I make the lines thicker again?” 

“Uh,” Niall says. “Do you really want it to stop?” 

_“Yes,”_ Harry says, rubbing his temples. “You don’t - you don’t understand. I can’t have feelings for Louis. It’d ruin everything.” 

“How exactly would that ruin anything?” Niall asks. “You know everyone always says your romantic partner should be your best friend. Except in your case, your best friend could be your romantic partner.”

“But if it didn’t end well, I wouldn’t just be losing my romantic partner, I’d be losing my best friend,” Harry says frustratedly. 

“As someone who’s observed the entire progression of your friendship,” Niall says slowly, “I highly doubt that it’ll happen. That it’d end badly or that you guys would or could ever lose each other. In my eyes, even if it doesn’t work out, you guys at least tried - and you’d still be friends afterwards. The question is do you want to try?”

“God, Louis doesn’t even feel the same, Niall,” Harry says, huffing out a laugh. 

“Are you sure?” Niall asks. “Have you asked him?”

“Have I asked Louis if he has a crush on me?” Harry repeats flatly. “No, the fuck I haven’t!” 

“Well, then you don’t really know,” Niall says slowly. 

“But - he seems completely normal. There’s no way,” he says, shaking his head. “I would have noticed. I… he doesn’t feel the same.” 

“Has he noticed anything different with you?” Niall asks. 

Harry purses his lips. “Uh, no, I don’t think so,” he admits. 

“Exactly,” says Niall, sounding smug. 

“Still doesn’t change the fact this could ruin everything,” Harry says, running a hand through his hair absently. He hears a thud in the distance - a thud he’s very familiar with. It’s the sound that rings through the flat when Louis slams the cabinet door shut which he only ever does out of frustration - he probably saw they were out of tea again. Harry makes a mental note to add it to the shopping list because Louis will undoubtedly forget. Then he stops, realizing that this is exactly it, exactly what makes people think they’re together. He knows Louis better than anyone - he’d be the best damn boyfriend he ever had, he’s sure of it. Better than Sean, better than any prick Louis has ever dated. 

He’d be the _best._

But Louis… “God, I can’t do this,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut again. 

“You didn’t even answer the question I asked earlier,” Niall says after a moment. 

“What question?” Harry murmurs, scowling. 

“Do _you_ want to try?” 

He bites his lip. Doesn’t answer. 

Niall already knows. 

-

After Harry abruptly changed the topic, he and Niall talked a bit about classes and plans of going out sometime this weekend and then they said goodbye awkwardly and Harry steeled himself to leave his room. 

He didn’t take more than five steps before Louis was crashing into his side. “We don’t have tea,” he whines. 

“I know. I heard,” Harry says, smiling despite himself. “I added it to the list so you don’t forget.” They have a shared note for grocery lists so they both have access. 

“I know. I _saw,”_ Louis mocks. He slumps into Harry’s side. “Movie?” 

“Uh,” Harry says, throat dry. “I, um, actually have an assignment I forgot about. It’s due at midnight so I need to get on it.” It’s not really a lie because he actually does have an assignment - except, it’s a relatively simple one and it’d never be something he’d usually choose over a film with Louis. But today… today is too hard. 

“Oh, bummer,” Louis frowns. “Do you need any help with it?” 

“Nah, I think I got it,” Harry says, trying to sound casual and tamp down that part of him that wants to take it back and go watch a movie with his favorite boy. “You should invite Perrie over or something. You guys can watch a movie if you want.” 

Louis pouts, but nods. “Okay, I’m going to cook dinner today too, alright? To make up for the extra money we spent today,” he says. 

“You don’t have -”

“I want to,” Louis interrupts before he can finish. He squeezes Harry’s arm. “Thanks for going along with my craziness today.” 

Harry smiles forcedly. “Anytime,” he murmurs. _Whatever you want._

“Good luck on your assignment,” Louis says after a moment, voice soft and eyes bright. “If you finish early, come out and join us, okay? I’ll paint your nails the same color I’m doing mine so we can match.” 

Smiling stiffly, Harry nods. “Okay,” he says. 

Louis smiles at him one more time before rushing off to call Perrie. Harry watches him go, heart beating unsteadily in his chest. 

He grabs some crisps from the kitchen before slinking back to the room. Fifteen minutes later, when he’s well in the throes of reading about maturity and early decline products, he hears the telltale sound of Perrie arriving and Louis running to greet her, ignoring the urge to go out and slide into his spot beside Louis like usual when they have guests over. 

It’s not like he _can’t_ go out there - he could stand up right now and walk out of the room. He could, but he won’t. He needs the distance. He needs it. 

Because he doesn’t know how to handle the way things have shifted for him - the way his eyes have been opened and his mind has wandered. He doesn’t know how to keep the words clawing up his throat from spilling out whenever he sees Louis so he’ll stay away. 

As expected, it doesn’t take him that long to finish the assignment and once he submits it, he pulls up Netflix, resigning himself to a lazy night in. He watches a few episodes of a random show because all the ones he’s currently watching are shows he’s watching with _Louis_ and the boy would smack him if he went ahead. He doesn’t end up paying much attention anyway, mind wandering. 

It’s been over a week since they’ve filmed a video, their motivation and energy running thin now that finals are getting closer and closer. And though they do have a couple saved up for posting, they had still planned for one more this week. Except… Harry has no clue how he’s supposed to go through with it. 

This, he reasons, is a problem. 

A problem he thinks about as he eats the dinner Louis makes him, and when he slides into bed, blinking up at the ceiling where the two glow in the dark stars glow faintly above him. There used to be a lot more - in both his and Louis’ room - but they’ve all fallen now. Glue gone stale and lights flickered out. 

Still, he’s thinking. He wonders what Louis would think if he suddenly wanted to stop with the porn. If they went back to _normal._

The only thing is… he doesn’t want to go back. He doesn’t want to stop having sex with Louis or being the only one who gets to see him like that - to make him feel that good. He doesn’t want to. 

That, he reasons, is his _biggest_ problem. 

-

As much as Harry tries to act normal around Louis - it’s hard. So hard that he finds himself avoiding him as much as possible, cutting conversations short and spending time away from the flat to hang out with Niall or the boys. It’s not like it does anything to get him to stop thinking about the boy, though. He spends restless nights with images and memories of Louis flitting around his brain, keeping him up. Every couple he sees in public makes him think of him, every loud laugh, ray of light - everything. It’s wildly inconvenient, but still Harry runs away from it all. 

He spends a lot more time training at the gym too - taking out his pent up frustration and anger on the punching bag until Liam is eyeing him cautiously from his own post nearby. 

His knuckles are always raw and bruised when he undoes his wrappings after a session. It feels fitting.

And as much as he tries to remain discreet about his odd behavior and the way he skirts around Louis, it’s only a matter of time before the other boy notices and confronts him about it. 

It happens on Saturday.

If anything, Harry’s pretty sure Louis noticed a while ago, always frowning at him right before he made his escape to his room where he’s been holing up for the majority of his time along with his other habit of locking himself out in the balcony, the closed screen door being an established signal for alone time between him and Louis (he’s been having a whole lot of it lately). 

So really, he’s been anticipating this. He wakes up on Saturday morning, dragging his feet to the kitchen and scratching lazily at his bare navel as he yawns loudly. 

The sound cuts off into something a bit more choked when he steps into the kitchen and sees Louis perched on the counter. 

He’s still in his pajamas, looking soft and sleep-rumpled with glasses askew on his nose and a frown on his pink lips. 

“Lou!” he says belatedly, still rooted to the spot. He glances at the clock, blinking. “It’s eight in the morning, what are you doing up?”

“Ambushing you,” Louis says bluntly, always one to cut right to the chase. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” Harry says, playing dumb. 

“You know what,” Louis says sharply. He’s clearly not in the mood to mess around which is exactly what Harry was afraid of. 

“Actually, I just remembered that I’m missing my green jacket. Have you seen it anywhere?” he asks hurriedly. 

“I have it in my room,” Louis says, frowning even more, “Stop trying to divert. We’re having a conversation no matter how much you try to run.” 

Sitting down at the table carefully and weighing his options, he sighs defeatedly. “What is it?”

Louis doesn’t waste anymore time. “Why are you ignoring me?” he asks, narrowing his eyes. The words are razor thin, cutting through any semblance of peace in the room. 

Harry flinches, wincing. “I’m not ignoring you,” he denies weakly. 

“Don’t bullshit me,” Louis says flatly. “Answer me straight. Why the fuck are you ignoring me?” 

If he wanted to test Louis’ patience even more, he’d make a joke about he can’t do anything _straight,_ but the way his face is twisted into frustration and his eyes are flashing dangerously convince him otherwise. “I’m not doing it on purpose,” he says in lieu of that. It’s not fully a lie. 

“Oh, so it’s unconscious now?” Louis asks, snorting. “You’re unconsciously trying to get as far as possible from me all the time. Great. Perfect.”

And that’s when Harry sees the hurt layered beneath the annoyance and irritation - the vulnerable confusion he’s feeling because his _best friend_ who’s supposed to be there for him all the time isn’t anymore. It makes him feel sick. 

“It’s just - I’m busy,” he blurts. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Lou. I don’t - I never want to hurt you. And I miss you. I miss you so much.” He swallows roughly. That was definitely not a lie. He does miss Louis - misses talking to him, making him smile - misses touching him and spending time with him. He misses him. 

“I miss you too,” Louis pouts. “Why didn’t you come to me?” He’s so genuine as he says it - so _sweet._

Harry really can’t handle this. “I… I dunno. It’s just - I don’t know.” He doesn’t know how to justify this when it’s never happened before - because he’s never had a reason to hide from Louis before. “It’s just… all too much.” 

Louis softens at that, looking up at him with sympathetic eyes. “Tell me next time,” he pleads. “Talk to me, H.” 

“I’m sorry,” Harry says helplessly, resisting the urge to pull Louis to his chest and hold him until the tight feeling eases and he can finally breathe again. On a normal day, he could. They hug all the time - it’s always fine. But not today. Not today when he feels so fragile and raw that even one small sunshine smile could shatter him. 

It’s not up to him though, because Louis closes the distance between them himself. He throws his arms around Harry’s neck and squeezes him tight, like he’s trying to squeeze all the struggling out with all the strength in his slim arms. 

And of course, when the prettiest, sweetest boy in the world is hugging you, you just have to hug back. It’s not even a question. Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ waist and tugs him closer, resting his cheek on the top of his head. 

“Wanna hang out today?” Louis murmurs after a minute. 

It doesn’t take any thinking. “Yes,” he says, closing his eyes and inhaling the smell of Louis’ shampoo in his soft hair. He’s too weak. Too weak for this. 

Taking a deep breath, he says, “I think we should talk about what we’re going to do for hunkandhoney.” 

“Filming another video?” Louis asks, pulling back with brows raised. 

“Uh, no, actually,” Harry coughs. “I meant… for when we’re both busy.” 

“Oh,” Louis says. “Well, I think we’re doing pretty fine. As long as we know our schedules and remember to film videos in advance when we know we’ll be swamped, we should be fine. And we’re fine now too, H. We’ve got two videos stored up and all we need is one more before the holidays.”

“Yeah, but…” Harry says. “I don’t… know if it’s good to have another thing to worry about, s’all.” 

“What do you mean?” Louis asks, frowning. He bites his lip. “You want to take a break or stop it all together?” 

“No,” Harry says, when he’s thinking _maybe that’d be best._ But he’s in too deep - too addicted. “Of course not. I’m just saying, it’s getting harder to find time together and so we should look into other alternatives.”

“What kind of alternatives?” Louis asks, narrowing his eyes. 

He flounders for a response. “Maybe we could do some solo stuff,” he offers. 

“Really?” Louis says, arching a brow. “What happened to ‘two people fucking is better than one person masturbating.’” He lowers his voice into a pitiful attempt at Harry’s timbre that he should really be offended by but he’s not able to focus on it. 

“We wouldn’t be switching entirely,” he says defensively. “I just think it’d be easier to post a short clip of me jerking off than filming a whole scene. It could even just be on Patreon. So we could take a break from videos for a while but encourage people to become patrons so they don’t miss out on content. It’d be a good strategy, I think.” 

“You know what I think? No honey, no money,” Louis chirps. 

“You could do solo stuff too!” Harry exclaims, though the thought of Louis getting himself off and him not being able to _see_ or _touch_ is excruciating. “Or… something else, I dunno.” 

“Like… finding someone else to film with me?” Louis asks. 

_“No,”_ Harry says, much too loudly, the thought making him feel nauseous. Louis is giving him a weird look though, so he adds hastily, “I’m not saying we’ll stop our usual schedule. It’s just like… a back-up option, y’know? For when things get busy, like for finals...” 

“Maybe,” Louis says, but he sounds unsure still. He peers up at Harry earnestly. “Do you still want to film something together this weekend?” 

“Uh…” Harry says, fumbling for an excuse. “I have a lot of homework…” 

“Just a quick scene,” Louis says. “We can skip the prep.” 

“No,” Harry says immediately, brows furrowing. He looks down at Louis’ wide eyes, feeling his resolve crumble. “We can do it,” he relents, “and we don’t have to skip the prep. Let’s make it good if we’re slowing down for a bit.” 

Louis smiles at him. A _big_ sunshine smile that makes Harry’s heart stutter. “If you’re sure,” he says slowly. 

“I’m sure,” Harry says. He’s never been more sure in his life. 

“Okay, great,” Louis grins wider. His glasses slide down his nose a little bit and Harry reaches down to adjust them on instinct, booping Louis’ nose just to see him feign a scowl. “Idiot,” he says, but it sounds fond. 

“Let’s go to the cinema today, okay?” Harry asks. “I’ll buy the popcorn.” 

“And I’ll choose the movie,” Louis says happily. Harry doesn’t point out how that’s an unfair exchange. Just smiles. “I’m here for you, just so you know,” Louis adds after a moment, softening again. “For advice, for homework help, for cuddles, for venting. Whatever you need. You can tell me anything.” 

“I know,” Harry says hoarsely. _Everything but this._ “I’ll make breakfast.”

“I can help,” Louis says. 

“Nah, you made dinner that one time,” Harry says, shaking his head. “Just sit and look pretty.” He winces at himself right after but Louis seems unbothered. 

“I can do that,” he says, before hopping back up on the counter and swinging his legs absently. He starts humming a second later, the tune of some song they both heard on the radio a few days ago that neither of them know the name of. 

It feels awkward as Harry opens the fridge and starts pulling out stuff for crepes (Louis’ favorite). It feels awkward to him, while Louis hums and eventually pulls his knees to his chest on the counter with his socked feet sticking out over the edge. It feels awkward. 

But Harry still can’t help but hang onto it. To indulge just a little bit more. 

After all, Louis is the one person he can never say no to. 

-

They decide to film Sunday afternoon and Harry finds himself experiencing a sense of deja-vu as he and Louis stand in almost the same positions as when they first did this. 

He goes through the motions of setting up the camera and adjusting the angles stiffly, averting his eyes from Louis who’s standing in the middle of the room, messing with the settings of his ceiling fan light for some artificial brightness because it’s the last day of November and it’s getting dark much too early. 

It’s entirely self-preserving the way he moves as slow as he can, taking way too much time to fiddle with the brightness and saturation and check the lens. However, any stalling attempts can only last so long, and eventually, Louis sides up beside him with a frown. 

“Ready?” he asks. 

Harry tries to find something else to fix, but comes up short. “Yeah,” he says. “Ready.” He inhales, turning back to the camera to hit the ‘start’ button and feeling a sense of resignation fill them. 

They already decided they were going pretty simple today - no storyline or roleplaying, just pure chemistry and intimacy. Two guys having sex because they want to, because they want each other. 

The video starts and Louis falls into him. 

He catches him like always, arms curling around Louis’ small waist to brace Louis as he strains up on his tiptoes to reach, winding his own arms around Harry’s neck. Their lips meet softly, but surely. 

Louis’ mouth opens on a sigh and Harry chases the taste of honey with his tongue, feeling Louis go limp in his arms. His hands slide lower, down to his arse before he’s hoisting him up, legs locking around his middle securely as he begins moving towards the bed. 

It all happens so smoothly - so _naturally._ The way they lay on the bed just kissing for a little while, shifting and writhing against each other until Louis is gasping into his mouth, rutting up against the thigh Harry has placed between his legs. 

They undress each other quickly but carefully, hands roaming across warm skin, gentle and exploring. Harry can’t help but run heavy eyes over soft curves and tan smooth skin. Can’t help but press the pads of his fingers to the delicate bones of hips or the rise and fall of a stomach. 

Can’t help but seek sweet pink lips over and over again, licking up all the honey he can find, savoring the taste as if it’s the last time he’ll ever get to experience it. He cradles Louis’ face like he’s something precious, letting himself indulge in his greatest temptation as much as he pleases. 

He keeps one hand cupping the side of his jaw, lips still slotted together sloppily as he eases a finger in Louis’ entrance, feeling him go lax beneath him. He presses kisses to his flushed cheeks, murmuring, “So good, honey baby. So good for me.” 

“More,” Louis whines, lashes clumping together from the wetness dripping in his eyes. 

Harry obliges, inching a second finger in as he bites Louis’ bottom lip, tugging it back a little until Louis gasps. He lets the sounds sink into him, eyes roaming and cataloguing every sound - every twitch of muscles or heave of his stomach. He memorizes everything, storing it away somewhere deep and personal. Somewhere only he knows the way to. 

As much as he tries to drag it out - sliding a third and even a fourth finger and thrusting them in languidly, stretching him open - eventually Louis gets impatient. 

_“Please,”_ he breathes. “Please, H.” And then - and then he says something that he probably thought would be best for this video. He says something that he doesn’t really mean but it feels too real - too much. He says, _“Make love to me,”_ and Harry loses it. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, sliding his fingers out from Louis’ entrance and settling his hands around Louis’ hips to make room as he moves between them. He grips his own neglected cock right after, easing some of the tension with deft twists of his hands. 

Louis’ hands curl around his arms, tugging him closer, honey dripping from his lips as he pleads, “In, in, please get in me.” 

And Harry can’t say no. He can never say no. 

He pulls Louis’ arms away, pinning them above his head with one hand as he aligns himself. He slaps the head of his cock over Louis’ puckered rim, making both of them tense when he moans. Then he dips down to seal their mouths together again as he slowly pushes in. 

There’s barely any resistance, a far cry from a time less than two months ago when they didn’t know each other’s bodies - when Harry didn’t know this all-consuming burn in his insides. Louis’ hips cradle his like coming home - so perfect, so right. 

When Louis urges him to move, he does. Lungs contracting, vision blurring, senses fading to a thrum of nothing but Louis, Louis, Louis. His best friend. His soulmate. His best indulgence. 

Tamping down the desire, Harry breaks their kiss to nip at Louis’ ear, breath fanning out over his skin and making him shiver. 

“So good for me,” he murmurs hoarsely, before dragging his lips up Louis’ throat. “So good for me, honey.” 

“H,” Louis rasps, lifting his hands and curling his fingers into Harry’s shoulders, pulling him closer, closer, closer. Like he never wants to let go. 

Harry’s eyes burn, a lump in his throat as his hips draw forward. Their bodies move in sync, fitting together in the best way possible. Louis’ nails dig into his skin, cutting shapes into his shoulders as he clutches at him desperately, eyes brimming with tears. 

Heart thundering in his ears, Harry feels his heart swell with emotion. Filling with raw desperation, yearning, and anguish. With _love._

He loves Louis. Fucking hell, he loves Louis. It registers in every part of his body, cells sparking and blood rushing to his head. It pushes at his skin, clawing up his throat. He tries to hold it back but it’s a flood, pouring out of his mouth.

“I love you.” It comes out like the roar of a storm, deafening and sending the ground shaking beneath their feet, in tune with Harry’s hips meeting Louis’ arse. 

Louis’ eyes roll back in his head as he gasps out his next breath. “I love you too,” he chokes out, and Harry’s heart twists. Because Louis is just going with the script - playing along with what he assumes Harry is pretending. He's always been a talented actor - so good at playing a role.

But Harry isn’t - Harry isn't acting at all. He meant it. He _means_ it and he can’t do this because Louis is _just acting._

He stops, letting go of Louis’ wrists and ignoring the way he jerks in confusion. “I need - stop, I need to stop,” he says, going as far as to slide out. His cock is so hard that it hurts, but it still doesn’t ache as much as his heart right now. 

“H? Are you okay?” Louis asks worriedly, reaching out to touch his shoulder with a layer of urgency in his movements. 

Harry flinches at the contact, averting his gaze when Louis gapes at him. “I just… I can’t do this,” he stammers.

“What? What’s wrong?” Louis asks, looking confused and panicked. 

"I can't have sex with you anymore." He doesn't mean it to come out like that - so loud and harsh, but it comes out anyway. And he doesn't take it back. 

Louis gapes at him, baffled. "H, what -"

“Honey,” he says, because he can’t say Louis’ actual name. He takes a deep breath and steels himself for the inevitable heartbreak, disappointment, and awkwardness that’s sure to follow. “Honey, we can’t do this anymore.” 

“Why not?” Louis asks, staring at him with wide eyes. He looks confused and concerned and _worried._ Always worried about Harry - always _caring_ about Harry, but not in the way he aches for.

“Because…” he swallows. This is the moment. This is the moment where everything changes, but Harry can't keep pretending any longer. “Fuck, I’m… I’m in love with you.” 

As much as he expected the world to shift beneath his feet and the cosmos to alter, all that happens is that Louis goes rigid. _“What?”_ he blurts.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Harry says hurriedly, rubbing at his temple. “I get - I get if you need some space or whatever, but I… I can’t do this anymore. Can’t hear you say you love me when it’s not true.”

He glances up back down at Louis who’s staring at him like he’s out of his mind, another blow to his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats helplessly. 

When Louis finally speaks, it takes him off guard. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he says. 

Harry blinks. “Um.” 

And then Louis grips his hips and pulls him back down and over him, lips spreading into a soft smile. A soft sunshine smile. “I’m in love with you too, _idiot.”_

For a second, the entire world stops moving. All sound cuts off and Harry’s limbs lock up, ears ringing as the words replay over and over in his head. 

“What,” he says helplessly, vision going blurry and brain slowing. “What did you say?” 

“I love you,” Louis says, beaming at him brighter than the sun. The biggest sunshine smile Harry has ever seen. “I’m in love with you.” 

The words sink in, but Harry still struggles to process - to understand. “Are you - are you being real, honey? You - you’re not just saying it because of the video -”

“Such an idiot,” Louis huffs, and then he surges up, throwing his arms around Harry’s neck and pulling him into a kiss. 

Harry kisses him back, feeling his heart burst inside his chest. The burn fades, soothed by the gentle and steady comfort of honey. 

“I’m in love with you,” Louis mumbles into his lips. And this time - this time Harry hears the insistence in his voice - the _truth._

And he believes. 

“Honey,” he says helplessly, hands coming up to cradle Louis’ face as he lines back up to Louis’ entrance, cock somehow not flagging in the slightest even through his turmoil. “I love you so much.” 

“Make love to me,” Louis says again, and Harry does. 

He holds Louis close and finds a steady rhythm, pleasure returning along with pure happiness as he thrusts forward, finding the spot that makes Louis go rigid and then slack, whimpering brokenly into his mouth. 

When Louis comes, he lets out a choked sob, his entire body seizing up before he relaxes, soft and sated. He still holds on tightly as Harry finds his own climax, the frisson of heat in his stomach building until he tips over the edge, shoulders dipping down. 

Louis tangles his fingers in his hair, lips soft and warm as they both recover. Harry pulls out and then pulls Louis into him, holding him tight. Holding him like he’s been wanting to this entire time. Holding him like he’s his. And he is. 

Eventually he gathers the resolve to get up for a rag and to stop the video, unable to keep the smile off his face as he returns to the bed where Louis is sprawled out, naked and stunning and smiling softly up at him. 

They kiss slowly and lazily, teeth bumping when they’re both smiling too widely that it becomes impossible. Harry’s heart feels so full, so _warm_ now that his sunshine loves him back. “How long?” he can’t help but ask somewhere between the hundredth or two hundredth kiss. 

“A few weeks now,” Louis admits, cheeks the most beautiful shade of red. “And you?” 

“About the same,” Harry says hoarsely, thumbing over Louis’ cheekbone absently (internally revelling in the knowledge that he can do this now - he can touch Louis in all the gentle and tender ways he’s been aching to). “Think it’s been there all along though. Just never realized.” 

“Same,” Louis echoes. They grin dopily at each other and Harry clears his throat. 

“Louis Tomlinson,” he says seriously. “Will you go on a date with me?” 

“Yes,” Louis says instantly, _“idiot.”_

Harry can’t even feel offended. He just grins wider because Louis is his best friend (and hopefully one day - soon - his boyfriend) and he’s always there for Harry when he needs him - always there to comfort him when he’s frustrated, to cheer him on at games, and to tell him he’s being an idiot when he’s being an idiot. 

He’s never been more grateful to be an idiot. 

-

Later on, after plenty of serious conversations about how things are going to change and not-so-serious snogging, Harry sits down to look over the footage, wondering if there’s anything he can salvage for a video that’s still suitable. 

As expected, he ends up getting distracted. He watches their past selves, sees the _love_ that’s so clearly driving every action - for both him and Louis. He watches and he wonders how they could have ever missed it. 

Harry rewatches their love confessions, watches them stop fucking as past-Harry gets too emotional to continue, watches Louis hurry to soothe him. Watches their love spill out into the open. His fingers poise to cut that clip out for the final video, cursor hovering over the delete button. 

Biting his lip, he moves his hand.

Later on, he posts the entire uncut video, love confessions and all. 

He reckons some long time followers will be glad to know they finally got their shit together. 

-

The very first time Harry peeks inside his own room the day he returns from his parents’, it’s after hearing an alarming and very recognizable shriek. Nothing can prepare him for the sight of his petite and utterly beautiful boyfriend standing rigid in the middle of the room. 

“Baby?” he says cautiously, cataloguing the panic on Louis’ face and immediately scanning the room for what’s responsible.

“Harry, there’s a fucking spider,” Louis yells, curling his arms around his middle protectively and squeezing his eyes shut. “Harry, get rid of it.” 

Amused, Harry walks over to him and uncurls his arms solely so he can replace them with his own. Louis presses his face to his chest, begrudgingly hugging him back. “Oh, baby, I missed you too,” Harry says dryly. 

“Shut up,” Louis says, elbowing him. 

Some things never change, apparently. 

After Harry traps the spider and takes it outside while Louis watches from a safe distance away, Harry finally gets the greeting kiss he’s been craving ever since he stepped onto his train to London that morning, body jittering with the anticipation of seeing his lovely Louis for the first time in two weeks. 

Louis hugs him properly this time, leaning up on his toes to connect their lips for a slow and sweet kiss. Harry savors the familiar taste of honey, having missed it greatly over break. 

“I’m not sleeping in your room if there’s spiders regularly hiding away in there,” Louis says immediately when he pulls back. 

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Who said you’re sleeping in my room?” he asks. 

“Me,” Louis says, arching his own brow. 

Well, Harry can’t argue with that. “I’ll protect you from the spiders, honey,” he says seriously, leaning forward to kiss Louis’ forehead. 

“Good,” Louis says, satisfied. He grabs Harry’s hand and tangles their fingers together, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “Film?” 

“Absolutely,” Harry says, grinning. “Just let me put my stuff away.” 

Louis offers to help him and they hold hands as they walk. Even after two dates where there’d been plenty of hand-holding, the novelty hasn’t worn off. Harry thinks he wants to spend every day with Louis’ hand in his. No, he _knows._

He doesn’t actually know much else about what’s in store for them - when their next date will be now that it’s rugby season and a new semester and Harry’s free-time has been cut down exponentially, if they’ll continue filming porn videos to pay for their rent (the love confession one was a quite a hit though), if there’ll be other financial struggles in the future, what’s going to happen when they graduate, if they’ll even make it that far. He doesn’t know any of it. 

But he does know a few things. He knows that from first sight and perhaps until the end of time, he’ll be endeared by Louis Tomlinson. He knows that the sun is the biggest and seemingly brightest star in the solar system, but it still doesn’t shine as bright as his boyfriend. He knows that he loves sweet things, and his favorite sweet thing tastes like honey. 

And he knows that the feeling swelling in his heart when he looks at Louis is love. A feeling stronger than any other. A feeling that gets defined in Harry’s book as blue eyes, soft laughs, sunshine smiles, and Sanrio socks. A feeling that consumes him so deeply, yet is something he never wants to stop experiencing. 

So yeah, he knows quite a few things. 

For him, it’s more than enough. 

-

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from for him. by Troye Sivan because the lyrics go, “Sickeningly sweet like honey, don’t need money,” and I thought it was funny because they _do_ need money… Anyways. 
> 
> The original prompt: Friends to lovers AU where Harry and Louis are best friends and flatmates in Uni and they both need money, Harry for his gym membership and Louis for cute stuff like sanrio plushies, so they decide to film homemade porn videos together. Louis is shy and sweet and maybe inexperienced and Harry kinda doms him.
> 
> I took some liberties with the reason for the money but all the elements are still there! 
> 
> Find me at:
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/falsegoodnight) | [tumblr](http://falsegoodnight.tumblr.com) | [fic post](https://falsegoodnight.tumblr.com/post/635765089654439936/sweet-like-honey-explicit-33k-weeks-of-flat)
> 
> Feel free to reach out or say hi! Or send me an ask on [cc](https://curiouscat.me/falsegoodnight) with your thoughts!


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